Tempted
by Scribbles-by-Kate
Summary: Belle French, in her early forties, meets twenty-five-year-old Tristan Gold, the lead singer with up-and-coming rock band Desperate Souls. Belle is instantly attracted to the man and his music, but, after a bad marriage, she's reluctant to risk her heart again. Gold, however, is attracted to her too. Older woman-younger man RumBelle AU. Non-magic.
1. Chapter One

I don't own _Once Upon a Time_: just playing with the characters.

**Tempted**

_Chapter one_

Belle made her way into the club, skirting around groups of young men and women drinking and flirting, and kept her eye out for Ariel.

She hadn't been in a place like this in years, not since before her marriage. Clubs had never really been her scene anyway, and she felt even more out of place here now with the lively chatter, dark, moody lighting, and pulsing background music. Still, Ariel had asked her to come, so she had.

And there was Ariel now, sitting at a table on a raised platform to the side, which Belle guessed was reserved for VIPs and music industry insiders. Her friend spotted her and waved, smiling.

'Belle, you made it,' she greeted, standing to hug her and kiss her cheek. 'I'm so glad you decided to come.' She squeezed her hand affectionately.

'Well, you were right: I needed to get out of the house.'

Ariel smiled. 'Eric will be pleased to see you, and you'll like the music, I think. Eric played me some of their stuff and they're very good.'

'What are they called?' Belle asked.

'Desperate Souls. They're just finishing work on their first album.'

'Right,' Belle said. She didn't know much about music, but Ariel was a successful singer songwriter and Eric was a well-known producer, so she had friends in the know. If Ariel and Eric said something was good, she generally tended to agree with them, so at least she could look forward to some good music tonight.

'So, how are you, sweetie?' Ariel asked, squeezing her hand again.

Belle smiled. Ariel was a very dear friend and Belle knew she could tell her anything.

'Greg came by last week.'

Ariel's eyes narrowed. 'What did he want?'

'What he always wants: for me to change my mind.'

Ariel rolled her eyes. 'He's _still_ trying to get you to go back to him, after everything?'

Belle smiled wryly. 'I don't fool myself into thinking that it's me he wants: he's only after the money.'

Ariel squeezed her hand tighter. 'Belle, whatever he says, don't give in to him.'

'I don't plan to, Ariel: I promise you.'

Ariel nodded. 'Good, because I know what a charmer he can be.'

Belle pressed her lips together and then nodded, as if conceding something. 'I'm not the naïve, eager-to-please girl I was when I met him. I thought he truly cared for me. If I'd guessed he was marrying me to get my money, I would never have agreed: I would never have condemned myself to over twenty years of marriage to a man who never cared for me as I did for him.'

'Oh, Belle, sweetie: I'm sorry to make you upset.' Ariel reached out and hugged her.

Belle shook her head, blinking back her tears. 'No, it's not you, Ariel. I'm upset with myself for staying so long. I should've gotten out sooner, but I stayed because Dad liked Greg.' She'd loved her father very much, but she shouldn't have let what he wanted decide her fate for so long: she knew she should have just left and looked for her happiness somewhere else, and it was probably too late now.

'It's not too late to find happiness, Belle,' Ariel told her, seeming to guess the tone of her thoughts.

Belle smiled sadly. 'What makes you say that?'

'I'm an optimist,' Ariel said with a bright smile.

Belle's smile turned affectionate. 'I'm glad you are. Thank you, Ariel: thank you for talking me into coming here tonight. I need to start being braver. I don't want to go on another twenty years and find that I never really did anything with my life.'

Ariel nodded and smiled. 'Well, I'm glad you came, and I think – I _know_ – that the best is yet to come for you.'

Belle gazed at her friend. When Ariel spoke with such conviction, Belle felt as though the things she said were true: maybe good things were just around the corner. One thing was for sure, she was much happier without Greg and she was determined to press on with the divorce despite his needling and pestering. She didn't love him and she knew he didn't love her: she refused to be tied to him any longer.

'Why don't I get us some drinks?' she suggested.

'Already in hand, Belle,' a man's voice called, and she looked up to see Eric coming over with two glasses of red wine in his hands.

'Hello, Eric,' she greeted, smiling, reaching up and kissing his cheek as he leaned down to kiss hers.

'It's great to see you, Belle,' he said, smiling at her.

'You too,' she returned sincerely, smiling as Eric drew in his chair and put his arm around Ariel's shoulder. Her friends were proof that a marriage could work if both partners loved and respected each other equally. Her trouble was that she wasn't sure she'd ever be brave enough to risk her heart again, after being hurt so badly.

'Are the guys nearly ready?' Ariel asked.

'Yeah. Wait till you hear them, Belle: they're really something.'

Belle smiled at his excitement: for Eric to be this excited about a band, they must be good, and she was starting to relax a little now that she was with her friends, so she settled back, her wineglass in her hand, ready to enjoy the show.

And a show was exactly what she got. The owner of the club came out and got the crowd excited for the band, and then three young men came onto the stage: two tallish men, one with short sandy hair and the other with coiffed brown hair, and a shorter, slim man with shaggy brown hair. He picked up a guitar, while the sandy-haired one went to the keyboard, and the other man went to the drum kit and spun the drumsticks in his hands before sounding out a couple of beats. The man with the shaggy hair turned and grinned at him, and then nodded, obviously ready to get the show started.

He stepped up to the microphone and spoke. 'Hello folks,' he called, in a distinct Scottish brogue: 'are you lot ready to rock?' There were loud cries of yes from around the club and the man grinned. 'Well, then, we are Desperate Souls and we're happy to provide the entertainment this evening. Hope you enjoy.' And he played a string of chords on his guitar that ended with a long, high, twanging sound that vibrated through Belle's body and let her know that this wasn't any old rock music: it was visceral, the kind that reached in and stirred your soul. She felt her heart pound and her breath catch. She couldn't remember the last time anything besides a book had caught her attention like this.

The music continued to grip her, washing over her like waves of turbulent emotion. All she knew about music was that she liked what she liked, and she liked this, very much. She felt the emotion in it like it was her own, and the lyrics spoke to her too: of anger, pain, despair, and yearning. The man with the shaggy hair was doing most of the singing, and she wondered if the lyrics were his too.

'What do you think, Belle?' Ariel asked, having to shout to be heard.

'They're good,' Belle returned: 'better than good. I've never heard anything like it. Did they write the songs themselves?'

'Tristan's the songwriter,' Eric told her: 'he's the one in front.'

He'd indicated the man with the shaggy hair and Belle looked up at him again. She could see why he was the front man. There was a real presence about him: he exuded charisma and he prowled across the stage in black leather pants and a skin-tight black t-shirt with an effortless grace. There was a certain cockiness about him, but also a real earnestness about what he was doing. He clearly loved being on stage singing his songs, and he clearly took his music seriously. Belle was sure that if this Tristan was the driving force behind Desperate Souls, they would be stars.

They finished up with a heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching song about fear and desperation, and Belle's heart fairly hammered in her chest, because she _knew_ how that felt, knew how it felt to be desperately afraid of something: she'd been so afraid to make the break with Greg that she'd stayed with him for years. It both unnerved and excited her that she'd found something besides a book that spoke to her like this.

She didn't quite know what to do with the adrenalin coursing through her. She was pretty sure she was too old to feel this way. Not that forty-two was old, but she felt that it was still too old to get caught up in this kind of emotion. She felt something like she imagined a teenage girl might feel when she saw the actor or singer she was crushing on, and she was surely too old to be feeling like _that_… She'd been married, for goodness' sake: she was a grown woman, not a teenager.

_Get a grip_, she told herself, as she watched the band walk off stage, clapping each other on the back and high-fiving good-naturedly. Obviously they felt it had gone well, and, judging by the buzz around the club, Belle would have to agree.

'They are going to be huge,' Ariel said, grinning.

Eric nodded in agreement. 'Yeah, they'll be selling out stadiums. I told them I'd introduce you,' he said to Ariel: 'why don't you come along, Belle?'

Belle demurred. 'I don't want to get in the way.' All the same, her heart had leapt strangely when Eric suggested going with them.

'Nonsense,' Ariel said: 'you could never be in the way. Anyway, didn't you say something about being braver?'

Belle smiled. 'You're right: I did. If you're sure it's alright?' She looked between her friends questioningly.

'You're coming with us,' Ariel said, and Eric nodded.

She smiled as Ariel took her hand and they followed Eric backstage. Everyone appeared to know Eric and Ariel, so no one interfered as they made their way to the band's dressing room.

They heard loud, exuberant voices as they approached.

Eric looked back at them and grinned. 'They're in good spirits.' He knocked on the door and someone shouted come in.

Ariel and Belle waited as Eric stuck his head around the door and spoke to the men inside. 'Are you decent?' he asked: 'I brought Ariel and a friend along to meet you.'

'We're decent…ish,' a joking voice said.

'Behave, Victor,' a different voice commanded. 'Don't worry, Eric: the boys will be on their best behaviour.'

Belle realised that voice belonged to the front man: the one Eric had called Tristan.

'Come on in, ladies,' Eric invited.

Belle followed Ariel in and found the three band members lounging on couches, drinks in their hands. When Belle and Ariel entered, the man with the shaggy hair stood up and then kicked the foot of the sandy-haired man.

'Get up, you lazy lump,' he growled, 'and you, Jeff. Is this how you behave in front of company?' And he rolled his eyes.

'Ariel, Belle, I'd like you to meet Tristan Gold, Victor Whale, and Jefferson Hatter,' Eric said: 'collectively known as Desperate Souls. Gentlemen, this is my wife, Ariel, and our friend, Belle French.'

'It's a pleasure, Mrs Marin,' Gold said, smiling as she laughed and said 'Ariel, please', 'and Mrs French, or is it Miss?' He looked down, apparently looking for a ring.

It had been Mrs Gaston, but not any more. 'Belle,' she said: 'just Belle.'

He looked into her eyes. 'Belle, then.' He squeezed her hand gently and then let go.

Belle was beginning to feel like her world had spun off its axis, and she knew it would get worse the longer she was in his company. It was his eyes that did it, and his voice too: both like chocolate in different ways. She _couldn't_ feel this way: it was too scary.

As he'd been talking to her, Ariel had shaken hands with the other two, and now they came and shook Belle's hand.

'Please, won't you sit down?' Gold invited.

Belle and Ariel sat together on the couch and Gold played host and offered them drinks and snacks.

'The show was great,' Ariel praised, when they'd all settled down: 'you guys are going to go far.'

Gold smiled. 'Thank you: we're flattered that you think so.'

The other men nodded and Belle could feel the respect they had for her friend. It made her smile. Ariel was incredibly talented, and she'd worked hard for her success. It was nice to see younger musicians valuing her opinion.

Gold saw her smile and smiled himself, looking at her again with those dark eyes. Belle found it difficult to breathe when he did that.

'What about you, Belle: are you a musician?'

She nearly laughed, but shook her head instead. 'Librarian,' she said.

'Ah, right,' he said, sounding as if he was actually interested. 'Books are your music.'

She stared at him, somewhere between shocked and pleased that he got what books meant to her.

'Yes, but… I like your music too.'

His smile was warm. 'Thank you,' he said, tilting his head.

Belle's heart thumped and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why she was reacting so strongly to this man. He was reeling her in like a fish and she felt powerless to stop it. She was probably old enough to be his mother, for goodness' sake, or just about: this was ridiculous!

She sat back and tried to calm herself down. She found it easier to do that if she didn't look at Tristan, so she avoided that as much as she could. Sometimes she'd get so drawn into what he was saying that she'd forget, and she'd look at him as she listened, and then he'd smile at her and her heart would thump again.

'Well, I think we'll let you guys get some rest,' Eric said, after they'd stayed about half an hour. 'I'll see you tomorrow to go over where we are with the album.'

'And I'll call you about dinner,' Ariel said. She'd taken a liking to the three men, Belle saw, and would make friends of them before too long.

'We look forward to it,' Tristan said, smiling. He smiled at Belle then. 'Good night, Belle,' he murmured.

'Good night,' she returned, feeling like she'd only be properly able to breathe again when she was out of this room and away from him.

Finally, they were walking towards the exit of the club and she felt the tension leave her body, but she couldn't empty her mind of thoughts of him.

0

'Well, I'm gonna head out and find me a date for the rest of the evening: you boys coming with?' Victor asked.

'No,' Gold returned flatly.

Victor frowned and then looked at his other band mate. 'Jeff, you will, won't you?'

'I would never say no to a beautiful woman's company. What's with you, Gold? I never knew you to say no before.'

'Well, I'm saying no now,' he snapped. 'On you go, but don't be late for our meeting with Eric in the morning.'

'Something's up with you,' Jefferson said.

'Maybe I'm sick of having to play parent to you two idiots,' Gold snapped. 'I swear, you wouldn't wipe your own arses if I didn't remind you to do it.'

Jefferson and Victor shared a look and, gathering their stuff together, they quickly cleared out, leaving Gold to his own devices. Hopefully he'd have worked through whatever mood he was in by morning.

Gold lay back on the couch in the empty dressing room and closed his eyes.

Fucking bad idea, that: as soon as he did, he saw _her_, the blue-eyed, chestnut-haired beauty who'd walked into his life less than an hour ago. God, those eyes, and that hair, and that sweet, kissable mouth, and that skin: fuck, what a goddess. He'd never seen anyone like her before, and he'd wished she'd just keep on talking in that musical accent.

She wasn't just gorgeous, though: she was refined, elegant, graceful. She didn't say much, but he could tell she thought plenty. He'd always wanted a woman like that: someone he could talk to about anything, but most of the women he encountered in his own age group were airheads, and he was pretty sure they were only interested in him because he was going places in the music business. A rock star boyfriend was high on their agendas, apparently. They didn't give a shit about him: just the lifestyle and the prospect of fame and wealth. He didn't want a woman like that: he wanted a woman like Belle.

Problem was, he was pretty sure she didn't like him. Well, she acted pretty stiff around him, and seemed like she couldn't wait to get out of there. Oh, she was polite enough, but he felt a reserve from her. Well, that was that, wasn't it? No point chasing after a woman who didn't want to be chased.

Ah, fuck it: maybe he should just catch up with Victor and Jeff.

He shook his head and lay for a while, daydreaming about an older woman with a sweet face and china blue eyes who was way out of his league.

**Thanks for reading :) – chapter two coming soon :)**


	2. Chapter Two

Since there's no new _Once_ tonight, have the second chapter of _Tempted_ instead :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Two_

Belle looked up from her book at the sound of jovial voices. Three men had just come into the diner and they sounded in good humour, laughing and talking excitedly. Their cheer was infectious and made her smile.

She was turning back to her book when she suddenly recognised the men: Victor, Jefferson, and Tristan, otherwise known as Desperate Souls. It had been a few weeks since their gig and she still found herself humming melodies from their songs and remembering lyrics. She also clearly remembered Tristan's voice and eyes, and the way he'd made her feel. _Stop that_, she told herself: _don't go there, Belle_.

'Belle?' Tristan's voice reached her and she looked up to see him coming towards her, walking with a cocky swagger and a grin on his face.

'Hey,' she greeted, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart.

'What brings you here?' he asked, very pleased to see her again.

'I'm meeting Ariel for lunch, but she's running a bit behind at the recording studio.'

He nodded. 'We just came from there.' He suddenly looked like he couldn't contain his excitement about something. 'We've officially finished recording our first album.'

She smiled at his obvious happiness. 'That's wonderful.'

'Yeah?' he asked, suddenly seeing something in her eyes that wasn't wary reserve.

She nodded. 'I'm very happy for you.'

She meant it, he saw, and that made him warm to her even more.

'We were gonna have a drink to celebrate: would you like to join us?'

'Oh, I don't want to intrude,' she demurred.

'Please?' he asked.

Something about him in that moment, something about the way he said 'please' like that, made her reconsider. It wasn't like she was a fish on his hook now, but the other way around, somehow. She didn't know why, and it surprised her, but he really wanted her company.

'Alright,' she murmured. He smiled.

It would be too cramped if they all tried to gather around the table she was sitting at, so she stood and looked for somewhere else.

'Hey, Trist!'

Gold turned at Jeff's hail and saw he and Victor sitting at a table by the window.

'That ok?' he asked Belle.

'Yes,' she said, and followed him towards his band mates.

Gold saw Jeff and Victor exchange a look as he approached with Belle and he knew he'd have to warn them to behave themselves: they could be a bit crude at times and he didn't want them scaring her away.

'Belle, you remember Jefferson and Victor?' he asked.

'Of course,' she said, shaking both men's hands.

'You're in the presence of a lady, so mind your manners, boys,' Gold warned, and pulled out Belle's chair for her.

Startled and touched at his words and his gesture, Belle bit her lip. God, he knew how to knock her off kilter, didn't he? Not that he was deliberately trying to do that, she realised: he was just trying to be a gentleman, but, starved as she'd been for any kind of male attention for so long, her soul gathered up his kind words and gestures to hoard like…well, like gold.

'What will you have to drink, Belle?' he asked now.

A waitress with long brown hair had arrived at their table. She was young, probably early twenties, and dressed in tight red shorts and a tight white shirt, its tails tied at her midriff. She was gorgeous, and her presence did something to sober Belle. No way could she compete with someone like that for someone like Tristan, not that she wanted or should be trying to compete anyway…

'Just an iced tea, please,' she told the waitress.

'Sure thing,' the younger woman returned genially, smiling at her. She took the three men's orders and sauntered off towards the bar.

Gold noticed Victor salivating after the leggy waitress and rolled his eyes.

'Close your mouth before you start catching flies,' he directed, and Victor did as he was told, shooting an indignant look back at Gold at the same time.

'So, um, what's the album called?' Belle asked, figuring she'd better try to make conversation. She regretted it somewhat when three pairs of eyes focused on her.

'It's self-titled,' Jefferson told her, smiling, 'considering desperation's kind of the theme of all the songs on it.'

She nodded. 'And when will it be out?'

'A few months,' Victor told her.

'That's good,' Belle said. 'It must be a lot of work.'

'Yeah,' Tristan agreed, 'but we've been working for it for five years, so to finally be here is pretty special.'

He looked happy and proud, and she was happy for him.

'Well, I can't wait to hear it,' she said sincerely.

'I'll make sure you get a copy,' he promised.

'Here you go, folks.' The waitress was back. 'Iced tea for the lady, Scotch for the Scot, and vodka for you boys: enjoy.' And she smiled and left them.

'Belle, you're the first person to know about the album outside the studio, so we'd be honoured if you'd lead us in a toast,' Tristan said, smiling at her.

Belle smiled, touched. 'You really want me to?' she asked.

'Yes,' he said, and the others chimed in with him. 'It'll bring us good luck,' he added.

Belle didn't know about that, but she was flattered to be asked.

'Alright,' she said, holding up her glass. 'Um: let's see… How about to _Desperate Souls_, the first of many albums: may it bring you all the success you've dreamed of and lead to even more success than you could ever dream of.'

There was silence for a moment and she wondered if she'd said something wrong.

'Well, now, if that doesn't bring us luck, I don't know what will,' Tristan said quietly.

'Hear, hear!' Jefferson called, raising his glass.

'Yes, indeed,' Victor added, clinking his glass against his band mate's.

'Thank you, Belle,' Tristan said quietly: 'that was a hell of a toast. Cheers.'

She smiled. 'Cheers.'

'Cheers!' the other two called out, and they all clinked glasses.

'Hey, guys.'

They turned to see Ariel coming towards them. She smiled and hugged Belle, who was about to stand up when Tristan spoke.

'I know you two were supposed to have lunch, but we're celebrating, so why don't you join us? My treat.'

'What do you think, Belle?' Ariel looked quizzically at her friend.

Belle didn't know how she could say no without offending anyone, and part of her didn't want to say no anyway. It was dangerous to indulge in this, whatever _this_ was, but there was a rebellious voice in her head telling her to just have some fun. She didn't know when the last time she'd had fun was: didn't know when the last time she'd done something just for herself was. Why not just live a little without worrying about the consequences just once?

'Why not?' she said, and Ariel grinned at her.

'Great!'

Tristan smiled. 'Pull up a chair, Ariel,' he invited.

Ariel smiled and Jefferson moved over so she could slot in beside Belle.

'So, what are we celebrating?' she asked.

'The album's done,' Tristan said, smiling.

'Wow: that's great!'

'Thanks.'

'And in that case, lunch is on me.'

He tried to protest. 'You don't–'

'Not a word,' she commanded. 'When I finished work on my first album, I didn't pay for my celebration lunch either. Let me do this for you, please.'

The three men exchanged looks and finally Gold nodded.

'If you insist,' he said, though it went against his grain. Still, he realised it would make Ariel happy, so he went along with it.

Belle sensed he wasn't happy about it. For such a young man, he seemed to have rather old-fashioned notions about how men should act with women, with the way he'd insisted his friends behave around her, how he'd pulled out her chair, and now wanting to pay for lunch. Well, maybe 'old fashioned' wasn't quite right, because gentlemanly behaviour never really went out of fashion, she believed, but one didn't meet with his kind of chivalry every day. She wondered where he'd picked it up.

Ariel waved the waitress over and she came and smiled at her.

'Hey, Ariel: what can I get you?'

'Hey, Ruby: we'd like to order some food.'

'No problem: I'll bring you some menus.'

She did and they sat looking over the menus quietly.

'What are you having, Belle?' Ariel asked.

Belle pursed her lips. Something decadent, she decided. 'The hamburger,' she said, 'with everything, and fries.'

'Sounds good to me,' Tristan said.

Ariel was a bit surprised at Belle's choice: she'd never known her to eat a burger, but maybe she was fulfilling her promise to live a little. Heaven knew she deserved to have a little fun now that she'd finally kicked Greg to the curb.

As she studied her friend, she also noticed the way Tristan was looking at her. She realised the musician might have a little thing for Belle and she filed that information away until she could decide what to do with it.

They ordered their food and Belle and Ariel smiled as Tristan and Jefferson teased Victor about Ruby.

'Don't worry: you're not the first man I've seen fall under her spell,' Ariel soothed.

'Think she'd give me her phone number?' he asked hopefully.

'Why don't you ask her?' she suggested.

He looked like he'd consider doing just that and Belle had to admire the forthrightness with which young men and women went about dating: they saw someone they liked and just expressed their interest. Perhaps it had been like that when she was their age, but she'd never been brave enough to do that. Greg had done all the chasing in their relationship, and she'd been flattered and delighted that such a handsome, charming man was interested in her. Looking back, of course she could see that none of it was real: he wanted her money, not her. She had gone into their marriage with so much optimism and happiness, and nothing had turned out as she thought it would. She'd been so foolish. How could she have been so blind?

She took a gasping breath and realised with horror that she was actually going to cry in front of her best friend and three men that she didn't even know. She didn't mind crying in front of Ariel, but the others, especially Tristan, seeing her was not something she wanted.

'Belle?' Tristan asked gently: 'are you alright?'

She felt her chin trembling. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm fine: just…I'll be right back.' And she rose quickly and hurried towards the ladies' room.

Gold looked at Ariel, alarmed. 'What happened?'

'She just needs a minute,' she said: 'don't worry.'

He _was_ worried. He'd seen Belle's expression go from tranquil to tortured in a matter of seconds and _something_ had happened to cause that. He knew he barely knew the woman, but he didn't like seeing her like that.

He turned his head to look after her and Ariel nodded to herself: there was definitely something there.

'I'll go check on her,' she said.

She found Belle in the ladies room, looking into the mirror.

'I'm sure they think I'm crazy,' she said self-deprecatingly, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Ariel shook her head. 'They're just worried: me too. Feel like talking about it?'

Belle sighed. 'Oh, I was just thinking about how different my experience of dating was: other people just go for what they want, like Victor with Ruby, but I realise that I never really knew what I wanted. I thought I wanted Greg because he seemed to want me, but it was nothing like I expected it would be.'

'What wasn't?'

'Everything: there was no companionship, no friendship, no intimacy, no love, no…no passion. He…he never _wanted_ me, and I-I just…' She sniffled as more tears fell.

'I'm so sorry, Belle: I'm sorry it was so awful for you.' Ariel went and hugged her. She knew that Belle must doubt her own appeal, and that was horrible. 'You'll have that with someone: I know you will,' she told her.

Belle shook her head sadly. 'I think that's past for me; besides, I won't risk getting my heart broken again.'

'Never say never, Belle. There's someone out there who will give you all of those things.' And maybe he was closer than Belle thought. Tristan definitely had some feeling for her, and even if that never turned into anything serious, his interest could really boost Belle's confidence. She deserved someone to make her feel good after Greg, and what could do that better than a hot young lover?

'Is that you being an optimist again?' Belle asked, smiling fondly.

'What can I say: it's just who I am.' Ariel shrugged and smiled.

'And I love you for it,' Belle said, and hugged her.

'Do you feel like going back out there?'

Belle took a deep breath and heard that rebellious voice in her head again.

'Let me just tidy myself up a bit.'

Ariel smiled.

0

'Everything ok?' Tristan asked solicitously, as they returned to the table.

Belle nodded. 'Yeah: sorry.'

He shook his head. 'No apology necessary: I was just worried.'

She smiled, touched. 'Thank you.'

He smiled back. 'You're quite welcome.'

She was caught by the look in his eyes: an intensity or heat that threatened to consume her, and she wasn't entirely sure she didn't want that. But she was being ridiculous: she was imagining that look, just like she imagined his gaze straying to her lips. Still, imagined as it was, it still made her heart flutter.

Luckily, their food arrived then and she had a reason to look away from him. She had to make herself remember what looking into his eyes did to her: she could really make a fool of herself if she wasn't careful.

**Thanks for reading :) – chapter three coming soon :)**


	3. Chapter Three

Here we are, Chapter Three :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Three_

After saying goodbye to Belle and the boys, Ariel headed home and found Eric waiting for her.

'I think Tristan has a crush on Belle,' she announced.

Her husband looked at her. 'Ariel, what are you up to?'

'I just think it could be good for her, you know?'

'You're going to play matchmaker,' he stated, shaking his head and smiling.

'I'm just going to put them together and see how they get along,' Ariel said: 'if there's no spark on Belle's side, I'll leave it alone, but if there is, Tristan could really boost her confidence.'

'Just be careful,' he warned.

She nodded. 'Oh, I know: I will. I don't want either of them hurt, and I know Belle's been through hell with Greg, but she deserves to be happy, and I think Tristan could make her happy.'

Eric smiled and kissed her.

She was as good as her word: over the next couple of months, she threw dinner parties and invited the boys and Belle along, and she'd invite Belle to go with her to Desperate Souls' gigs, or to places she knew Tristan was going to be, like music industry parties and other musicians' gigs. Then she'd watch their interactions for signs of their feelings.

Tristan was pretty easy to read. He was clearly fascinated by Belle: Ariel saw it every time he looked at her. When Belle was around, Tristan didn't see anyone else. Plenty of young women tried to get his attention, but he just didn't see them, much to their discomfiture. Tristan was most definitely besotted with Belle.

Belle, though Ariel had known her longer, was harder to read. Ariel knew that she was afraid of getting hurt again, so she was trying to keep her distance. There were moments, though, when she'd let her guard down and send him a smile or a look that told Ariel she wasn't uninterested in him.

Ariel knew it would be a slow process. If anyone could get Belle to lower her walls completely, it would be Tristan, with his openness and down-to-earth nature, but Ariel was hoping that he could be patient with her friend. Belle had been hurt so much: she needed to rebuild her confidence and self-esteem before she would be ready for any kind of romantic relationship.

0

Belle smiled at the little girl as she handed over the copy of _Alice in Wonderland_.

'There you go: enjoy.'

'What do you say, Susie?' the child's mother asked.

'Thank you, Miss Belle.'

'You are very welcome, Susie: thanks for stopping by.'

'We'll see you next week for story time, Belle,' the woman said.

'See you both then,' Belle returned with a nod and a smile.

Susie and her mother had just reached the door when it burst open and a tall man came storming in past them.

'What the hell is this?' he demanded, thrusting some documents at Belle.

Belle looked around and saw that a couple of the children and parents still browsing after story time were looking over, alarmed.

Belle turned and went into her office where they could talk without disturbing anyone. The man followed her in and she closed the door.

She took a breath and looked up into the eyes of her ex-husband.

'I'll thank you not to come barging into my library and frightening the patrons, Greg,' she said coldly.

'What is this?' he demanded, lowering his voice, but not concealing his anger.

'What does it look like?' she returned.

'I won't agree to this, Belle,' he told her: 'I keep telling you I don't want a divorce.'

'Well, then, I'll see you in court, won't I?' she retorted boldly, angry with him for being so stubborn.

'You are my _wife_,' he growled, 'and I will _not_ let you go.'

'This is not a _marriage_,' she hissed, fuming now. 'Marriage should be based on respect and honesty and love and trust: we never had any of that. I thought we did, but I was wrong. You never loved me, Greg, ever: the least you can do for me now is let me go. The settlement is more than generous, especially after your infidelities, and you know I can provide proof of those if I have to: please just take what I'm offering and let me get on with my life.'

She saw the change in his demeanour and knew at once what he was going to do, but his charm wouldn't work on her, not any more.

'Maybe I didn't show it very well, but I do love you, Belle.'

Oh, he sounded so sincere, but Belle had learnt not to trust in the sound of his words but in the look in his eyes. There was no honesty in them, no truth. She'd gotten one good thing from her marriage and that was the development of a sense about people, which allowed her to see beyond the surface to the inner truth of a person. She saw Greg for what he was now, a manipulative liar with a rotten heart.

She shook her head now, curbing the urge to laugh and roll her eyes.

'You don't love me, Greg,' she said knowingly: 'you love what marriage to me gave you. You love the money and the lifestyle, and maybe it even extended to having me on your arm to show off: a little wife who would do anything for you, but I'm not that naïve girl any more, and whatever love I felt for you is long gone. So, this is where we are: our marriage is over and nothing you say or do will make me change my mind. Let me go, please.'

His expression went from an attempt at soft and charming to hard and aggressive in a second. There was an arrogance and a petulance about his look now that made her wonder how she'd ever found him handsome.

'This isn't over,' he told her, turning on his heel and stalking out of the library.

'Are you alright, Belle?'

She looked up as Roland's father Robin came to her, looking at her with concern.

She smiled. 'I'm fine, Robin: thank you.' Surprisingly, she _was_ fine. She seemed to get stronger every time she had to deal with Greg, and her anger about him coming in here and disturbing the tranquil peace of her library was keeping her from deflating now that he was gone. It used to be much harder to deal with him, but now it didn't faze her at all. She supposed that was because she realised more every day how much happier she was without him: there was no way she would ever give that up by going back to him.

'You're sure?' Robin asked, 'because I can go and punch him if you like?'

She smiled. Like Ariel and Eric, Robin was another friend who'd been very supportive over the whole Greg thing.

'Thanks, but I can handle him.'

He smiled. 'I believe you can,' he said.

'So, did Roland find a book he liked?' she asked.

'Several, I think,' he said: 'he can't choose.'

She smiled. 'Well, why don't we take a look?'

And everything went back to normal. The library's patrons forgot the intrusion as the gentle, smiling librarian helped the children choose a new story to fall in love with.

0

The library closed at one on Saturdays and Belle usually had lunch and ran errands before heading home. Today, she had no errands, but she didn't feel like going home after lunch.

She took a walk, feeling like she needed to burn off some energy, or maybe some anger. She was absolutely _furious_ at Greg. How _dare_ he come into her library, frighten its patrons, and threaten her? God, she wanted to slap him! He wouldn't let her go, would he not? Well, she'd just see about that! Who the hell did he think he was, trying to keep her trapped in their sham of a marriage despite her repeatedly telling him she wanted out? Ugh…

Her blood was boiling as she walked. She'd never felt quite like this before. This feeling could lead to anything, she realised. There was a rebellious, reckless spirit inside her just itching to be released and she wondered what she had to lose by setting it free.

There was a party for Tristan's band tonight. Apparently, the record company had high hopes for Desperate Souls and was pushing the boat out to promote the band and the upcoming album. Well, they were very talented: even Belle could see that. Ariel had asked her to come to the party, and she found that she really _wanted_ to. Who knew what it could lead to? She was tired of holding back: it was time to do the brave thing, put the past in the past, and look to the future.

She passed a boutique with a display of dresses in the window. She couldn't remember the last time she'd bought a sexy dress, if she'd _ever_ bought one. Well, she still had a pretty good figure, so why the hell shouldn't she show it off?

Decision made, she pushed open the door and walked into the boutique with a sense of purpose.

0

Gold was finding it a bit strange being the centre of attention. Everyone wanted to meet them and he, as usual, ended up doing most of the talking, Victor was preoccupied with Ruby, while Jefferson just looked above it all, as usual, so Gold ended up being spokesman, and he was rather enjoying the attention, despite the strangeness of it.

The person he was most anxious to see, though, was Belle, but there was no sign of her. Ariel had invited her, but there was no guarantee she'd come. Suddenly, the attention they were getting didn't matter so much.

'I could really use a drink,' Gold said, turning towards the bar.

'Ho-ly shit!' Jeff breathed, sounding like he was having a heart attack.

Gold turned. 'What is it?'

'Look over there,' Jeff directed, nodding his head.

Gold turned again and saw a woman in a dark red, lacy dress going up to Ariel. She had her dark hair piled on top of her head and the dress showed off her gorgeous figure to perfection. Her shoulders and the top of her back were bare and her skin glowed. Looking down, he groaned at the sight of her long, slim legs in high heels, and her gorgeous arse hugged by the cut of the dress.

'I do believe I've died and gone to heaven,' Jeff said, awed.

'You and me both,' Gold agreed, nodding.

The woman turned then and he nearly swallowed his tongue.

'Well, fuck me,' he gasped.

So, Belle had come after all, and, God, was he glad she had. She looked sexy as all hell in that outfit.

He'd seen her a few times since their lunch the day they finished the album. She'd been at Ariel's the times the singer had invited he and the boys to dinner, and she'd come to a couple of parties and gigs too. They'd chatted a bit, but she was a difficult woman to try to read, he'd realised. One minute, she'd smile and lose a little of the reserve, and the next, the walls would be back up and he'd be back to square one.

He didn't know exactly what was going on with her, but he still remembered the pained look on her face that day at the diner and he guessed that whatever was going on with her was difficult to deal with. That had made him want to be her friend if nothing else, but the sight of her in that dress was making it very difficult for him not to want more than friendship.

'Ah, shit,' Jeff grumbled beside him, shooting him a dark look.

Gold knew what that was about. Jefferson had figured out his interest in Belle, and, as much as he pissed him off on occasion, he had his back and would never go after a woman he was interested in.

'I appreciate it, brother,' he said, understanding that Jefferson was closing down the fantasy of him and the brunette now that they knew who she was.

The other man sighed. 'Yeah, well, I know you like her: just don't wait too long to do something about it, ok?'

'Yeah, provided she doesn't shoot me down.'

Jefferson grinned. 'Yeah, there is that,' he said, suddenly looking hopeful.

''Fuck it, I need that drink,' Gold said, but Ariel was leading Belle towards them now, so he stayed put, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

'Hey, Belle,' he greeted: 'thanks for coming. You look, ah…you look beautiful.'

'Thank you,' she murmured. She smiled. 'This is quite a party.' She looked around.

'Yeah, it's…something, alright,' he agreed, staring at her.

Jefferson gave him a dig in the ribs with his elbow and he promptly closed his mouth.

'Hey, guys,' Eric greeted. 'Wow, you look fantastic, Belle,' he said, smiling.

'Hey, Eric: thanks.' She smiled as he kissed her cheek and Gold wished he knew her well enough to do that. Well, he really wanted to do more than that…

'Tristan, Jeff, Richard Midas would like a word,' Eric said.

'Oh, right, yeah,' Gold said, snapping out of his Belle-induced trance: 'we'd better go.' It wouldn't do to keep the boss of the record company waiting.

'We'll see you in a bit,' Ariel said, and she and Belle watched Tristan and Jefferson go, and then Ariel turned to Belle.

'Ok, start talking,' she demanded: '_where_ did you get that dress and _where_ have you been hiding that _figure_?' She looked her friend over, awed.

Belle chuckled. 'I bought the dress today after work. Does it really look alright?'

Ariel stared at her. 'Did you look in the mirror? Belle, you look hot. You have a better figure than most of the women in this room, but what happened that you decided to show it off?'

Belle rolled her eyes. ''Greg.'

Ariel groaned. 'What now?'

'He stormed into the library with the divorce papers and went on about how I was his wife and he wouldn't let me go.'

'He _what_?' Ariel screeched, drawing attention from the people around them.

Belle took her hand and led her out to the terrace so they could talk privately.

'Sorry, honey,' Ariel said. She knew Belle liked to keep her personal affairs to herself and she'd blown that.

Belle shook her head, though. 'No, it's ok,' she said. 'I don't really care who knows how much of a bastard he is.'

'You're angry,' Ariel realised, and it was good to see, because now she knew Belle would fight him. She hadn't been sure she would before: she'd always been a little worried that she'd give in and take him back, but now she knew she wouldn't.

'I am,' Belle agreed, 'so angry I could scream. How dare he treat me like I'm some bloody possession? I gave him a chance, offered him a generous settlement, and he still wouldn't do the decent thing and just let me go. He wants to make me miserable and I _hate_ him for that. That's why I bought the dress: I just wanted to prove that I can do whatever the hell I want.'

She started to pace back and forth and Ariel just watched, pleased to see her friend's anger. She'd always known there was more to Belle than the woman she'd been while married to Greg. Sometimes she saw flashes of the vibrant, passionate woman she could see in front of her now, but Belle seemed to always hide that part of herself away when it tried to emerge. It always pained Ariel to see her do that, so she was pleased to see Belle let it out now.

'Can you believe he even had the nerve to tell me he really does love me?' Belle asked, glaring, though not at Ariel. 'He must really think I'm an idiot. God, he's such an arrogant, petulant, selfish bastard! I cannot believe I actually _fell_ for him! What the hell was I thinking?'

'What are you going to do about it, honey?' Ariel asked, smiling.

'I'm going to get what I want, whether he likes it or not,' Belle stated vehemently. 'I _won't_ let him ruin my life any longer.'

Ariel clapped and Belle smiled.

'Everything ok out here?' Eric asked, sticking his head around the door.

'Yeah, we're good,' Ariel said: 'Belle was just complaining about her bastard ex-husband.'

'What'd he do now?' Eric asked, eyes narrowing.

'Same as always,' Belle said: 'won't agree to the divorce. I'm just blowing off steam. Sorry, I'm keeping you from the party.'

'You're more important than some party,' Ariel told her, and Eric nodded.

She smiled. 'Thanks, but I think I'm done for now. I could really use a drink.'

0

'Merlot, please.'

Gold turned at the sound of Belle's voice.

'Hey,' he greeted, telling himself not to stare at her.

'Hey. Where are Jefferson and Victor?'

'Victor's off somewhere with Ruby and Jeff's somewhere about, probably chatting someone up.'

'Thank you,' she said to the bartender, taking her drink from him. 'What about you, Tristan: no date this evening?'

He laughed. 'Eh, no.' He scratched the back of his neck. 'You?'

She laughed too. 'No. I don't really date. Well, I haven't dated in a long while.'

'Married?' She wasn't wearing a ring, but some people didn't, and she'd never answered him when he'd asked if it was Mrs French or Miss. He didn't know if she'd answer now, but she seemed willing to talk to him, so he figured he'd try.

'Separated,' she told him, taking a sip of her wine. The look on her face suggested that it wasn't a pleasant subject. 'Soon to be divorced, actually,' she said, with some determination.

'Right,' he said. 'I was _almost_ married.'

'You were?'

He nodded. 'Discovered the day before the wedding that she was having an affair.'

Her eyes widened. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured.

He smiled, seeing she meant that. 'It was probably a good thing in the end, though it hurt at the time. We were young and I'm not the same person I was then. Besides, if I'd married her, I wouldn't be here, wouldn't have the band or the album.' _Or have met you_, though he dared not say that aloud.

She nodded. 'At least you found out what she was doing before you made that commitment,' she pointed out: 'I wasn't so lucky.'

'I'm sorry.'

She smiled sadly. 'I was young, naïve.' She shook her head. 'Some things you can't get back,' she murmured.

'Maybe not,' he agreed, 'and maybe you can. And maybe what you can have now is better than what you lost anyway.'

She looked up at him, surprised. She stared at him for a long beat and he looked right back at her.

Yeah, he wanted to tell her that, yes, he would be better, and he very nearly did, but then she looked away, and he felt her walls come back up. _Fuck it_, he growled to himself: _good fucking job, Gold_.

But Belle reached out and put her hand on his arm. She didn't look at him, and then she walked away.

Gold debated what to do. He wanted to go after her, wanted to catch her by the hand, pull her close, and kiss her. He wanted to take her home and worship her the way a woman like that ought to be worshipped, but he didn't do any of those things. What he did do was order another Scotch, go out onto the terrace, and light a cigarette.

'Fuck it,' he growled after taking a couple of drags on the cigarette.

'Something wrong, Tristan?'

He turned quickly and saw Ariel sitting on a bench.

'Ariel: sorry, I…'

'Wanna talk about it?' she asked, smiling.

'I'm not sure you'll like it,' he admitted.

'You're not sure I'll like that you have feelings for Belle?'

He stared at her. 'How did you know that?'

'I see how you look at her,' she said, 'and I think it's good that you like her.'

He frowned. 'You do?'

'Mhm.'

'Even though I'm a lot younger than her?'

Ariel smiled at the way he'd phrased that: he'd phrased it like it was his youth that was an issue, rather than Belle's maturity, and now she definitely didn't have a problem with the age difference.

'Age is just a number,' she said: 'it says nothing about someone's mentality, really.'

He smiled. 'Can I join you?'

'Please,' she invited.

He dropped the spent cigarette butt and crushed it under his boot. Then he went and sat on the bench beside Ariel.

'I think I said something that upset her,' he admitted.

'What was that?'

'She said she married young: said she was naïve, and that you can't get some things back. I said that maybe what you can have now is better.'

Ariel smiled. 'Meaning you?'

He sighed, giving up wondering at her perception.

'I guess I did, yeah.'

'And you think that upset her?'

'It brought her walls back up and she walked away.'

Ariel nodded. 'Belle's been hurt a lot, Tristan: if you care about her, you're going to have to give her time to accept that your feelings are real. If you can be patient, if you can try to be her friend first… Please, don't give up: I think she needs someone like you.'

His heart thumped hard. 'I think I need someone like her,' he confessed.

Ariel smiled. 'Then you'll keep trying?'

He nodded. 'Yeah. I just want to be close to her.'

She smiled. 'That's good.'

Ariel's phone pinged and she pulled it from her purse.

'It's a text from Belle,' she said, frowning. She opened it and read it. She sighed and nodded. 'I thought so.'

'What?'

'She left, but she asked me to say good night to you for her.'

'Me specifically?'

She nodded. '"Can you tell Tristan good night from me?" Those are her words.' She smiled. 'She just needs some time.'

He nodded. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

She smiled again. 'Good.'

0

Belle let herself into the house, leaned against the door, and closed her eyes.

She kept asking herself what he meant by what she could have now. She half wondered if he was talking about himself, but he couldn't have been: why would he mean himself? Still, the thought had come, and it wasn't so easy to dismiss.

She'd touched him. She couldn't stop herself: she'd just…_had_ to, because, in spite of the fact that she was terrified at the thought of letting him close enough to risk her heart again, she also wanted him. He was nearly twenty years younger than her, had more attractive options in his own age group, and, whatever she imagined, would never think of her like _that_, but she could admit to herself now that she wanted him. It was crazy, and rash, and reckless, but she didn't care.

She'd never wanted Greg like this, with this burning need. Early on in their marriage, she'd actually thought there was something wrong with her, because when they did go to bed together, she just didn't feel excited sexually. After a while, and a little experimentation by herself, she figured out what she liked, and tried to get Greg on board, but he wasn't at all responsive to her suggestions. His idea of lovemaking was always cold, perfunctory, and, eventually, she just went through the motions, until her libido dried up entirely. By then he was seeing other women, so he didn't bother with her.

She supposed she could have found someone else too, but she wasn't the type to throw away her vows and, despite his behaviour, it took her a long time to fall out of love with her husband, so she just wasn't _interested_ in being with anyone else.

It had been years since she'd felt any kind of sexual desire, and she'd never expected to feel it for a man nearly half her age, but there it was.

Somehow, after all this time, her body still remembered what brought her pleasure, and all she had to do was close her eyes and picture his face to find enough to arouse her. So, if she went to her room and undressed, reacquainting herself with her sexual side to thoughts of him, he would never have to know.

**Thanks for reading :) – chapter four coming soon :)**


	4. Chapter Four

Here we are at Chapter Four, in which Tristan and Belle get to know each other a little better. Thanks so much for reading :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Four_

He pushed open the door and walked in. It was quiet and he instinctively quieted his movements and actions. Libraries were hallowed places: Aggie and Elsie had taught him that when they used to bring him to the local library back home, and this library was especially sacred, because it was Belle's.

He walked further in on almost noiseless feet, taking in the rows upon rows of bookshelves, the orderly circulation desk, the bank of computers against one wall, the newspaper stand, the microfiche reader, the small video library in the corner, the cosy chairs dotted around the place for reading in, the desks for people to study at, and the few pictures and knick-knacks that made the place homely and welcoming. It was a nice place, and he could see Belle in everything.

He couldn't see the woman herself, but then he heard a voice and, recognising it at once as hers, he followed it.

Coming around a corner, he came upon a scene that made him stop and stare. Belle was sitting in an armchair in one of the library's corners, a book in her hand. There were several children gathered at her feet, sitting on rugs and beanbags, and they were all staring up at Belle as she read to them. All the kids' parents were standing around listening too, and Gold joined them, just savouring Belle's soft, accented, beautifully musical voice. Her voice was better than any song he could ever write.

She finished up her story and smiled around at all the children.

'Now, why don't you ask your mums and dads to help you pick new books to read?' she suggested.

'Thank you, Miss Belle!' the kids chorused.

'You're very welcome,' she returned.

Each child came to her then and got a gentle hug and smile from her, and Gold thought he'd never seen anything so sweet. She should have been a mother: she was so natural with children.

As the kids went off to look for something to read, Belle exchanged pleasantries with the parents. She chatted with one man for a long moment: a tall, rugged bloke, with light brown hair and a beard. They seemed on friendly terms, and then they hugged, Belle smiling. Something in Gold's gut twisted.

Ariel had led him to believe she wasn't seeing anyone, but maybe she didn't know about this guy. Well, of course there would be other men interested in Belle: she was a beautiful woman and he wouldn't be the only man to see that. And, of course she'd want someone her own age: not some kid. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Rolling his eyes at himself, he turned to leave.

'Tristan?'

He turned back at her call. The tall guy was gone.

'Hey,' she greeted, surprised, but happy to see him. She hadn't seen him since the party last week, but she'd thought of him, a lot.

'Hey. Sorry, you're busy: I was gonna just leave you to it.' He gestured vaguely towards the door.

She spoke before she could try to stop herself. 'I close at one: you could come back just before?'

He nodded, accepting her invitation, and grateful to get it. 'I'll come back.'

She nodded and smiled, glad.

0

Belle looked up and smiled as Tristan came in.

'Hey,' she greeted. 'Sorry about earlier: Saturday mornings are always busy.'

He shook his head. 'It's fine: I should've realised. Do you do that every week: read them a story?'

'You were here for that?'

'Just the end,' he said. 'The kids looked like they enjoyed it.'

She smiled. 'I like seeing their little faces light up at a story.'

Yes, she should definitely have been a mother; maybe she still could be.

'So, what brought you by?' she asked, knowing he had some purpose in coming.

'I wanted to bring you this,' he said, pulling the CD from the inside pocket of his jacket. 'It won't be out yet for a bit, but I promised you a copy of our album, so…' He offered her the CD case.

She took the box and turned it over in her hands, looking at the dark, moody artwork, and the picture of him and the boys in leather on the cover. She smiled up at him.

'Thank you, Tristan: you're very kind.'

She couldn't have been given many gifts, he thought, judging by the way she reacted to such a small token, but he was happy he could make her happy.

'You're welcome,' he said. 'So, what do you do after you close up?'

'Usually have lunch and run errands: not very exciting,' she said self-deprecatingly.

'Well, it sounds more exciting than what I had planned for today.'

'And what's that?'

'Not a lot, to be honest,' he said, grinning. 'The boys are off getting up to I-don't-even-want-to-know-what, and we have no gig tonight, so I'm sort of at a loose end.'

Belle looked up at him. He was alone for the afternoon and so was she: why couldn't they spend it together? Part of her knew it was a bad idea, but the part of her that was so very drawn to him made her think _screw it_. She was smart enough to know that nothing could come of her mad infatuation, and, as long as she didn't tell him of it, why couldn't she see him: why couldn't she have memories to feed her fantasies when it would hurt no one?

'You could have lunch with me?' she suggested, and the words sounded unsure as she spoke them, because surely he thought he could find a better way to spend his afternoon than with a woman who was practically grown up when he was born.

But his smile was soft as he looked at her. 'I'd like that, Belle.'

Inside, he was grinning, feeling like he could make some progress with her at last.

She smiled, a little surprised, and awed that she couldn't find any trace of insincerity in his eyes.

'Ok, then,' she murmured, her heart doing a crazy somersault.

He waited while she tidied up, turning off computers and lights, and making sure everything was secure. Then he held open the door for her and stood beside her as she locked up.

'Can I ask you something?' she asked, as they walked together.

'Of course.' He'd tell her anything.

'Where did you learn that chivalry? It's rare enough in men my age, so to find it in someone your age is a bit of a surprise.'

He looked down at her and smiled. 'I was raised by two women, Aggie and Elsie, who taught me to be a gentleman,' he said: 'they always told me women should be treated like queens.' He smiled again, remembering Aggie and Elsie's talks with him fondly.

Belle smiled at the open, affectionate look on his face.

'They sound like very special women,' she commented.

He nodded. 'They are.'

'Are they your mothers?'

'I always called them my aunts, but, yeah, they're the closest things I had to a mother. I never knew mine, and my father…well, he wasn't one.' He scowled at the thought of Malcolm Gold: no doubt he was propping up some bar somewhere.

'I'm sorry.'

He smiled at her. 'Thanks. Are you close with your parents?'

'I was. My mother died when I was in my teens, and I lost Dad a little over a year ago.'

'I'm sorry.'

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. 'Thank you. So, what else did your mothers teach you?' she asked, looking up at him.

He smiled. 'They taught me how to play the piano and the guitar: I learned all I know about music from them.'

'Well, from what I've heard, they taught you very well,' she remarked.

He smiled his thanks. 'Did your parents teach you anything in particular?'

'I learned to love books from my mother,' she said, smiling. 'Oh, here we are,' she said, as they arrived at the restaurant she'd suggested.

'After you,' he said, holding the door open for her.

'Thank you,' she murmured, smiling warmly.

'Ah, Ms French: welcome back.'

Belle smiled at the maitre d'. 'Hello, Lumiere: can we have a table for two, please?'

'Certainly, Miss: please come this way.'

Gold looked around in surprise. This place was a lot more upmarket than the last place they'd had lunch at, but he realised that this must be Belle's world: the restaurant went with the air of refinement she exuded, and with the fine clothes and jewellery she wore.

He stepped up to push in her chair for her and took his seat opposite her.

'So, this is your world,' he observed, waving his hand to take everything in.

Belle looked at him and realised that he hadn't known about her money.

'Yes,' she said quietly.

He nodded. 'Ok.'

She was surprised that that was all he had to say. 'Ok?' she asked.

He smiled. 'My world is a dark club with a stage and the smell of alcohol and the sound of loud music: yours is an expensive restaurant and a cosy library. You came into my world and now I'm in yours, and we're friends: it can be that simple.'

He needed her to know that he meant that: they could come from different worlds and still have something, even if all they ever had was friendship. He needed her to understand that he wouldn't take anything from her that she didn't want to give, which was why he'd talked only of them being friends. He wouldn't say no to more, but if she only wanted his friendship, he'd give it gladly.

She smiled. Yes, it could be that simple. They could be Belle and Tristan no matter which of their worlds they were in: they could still be themselves and be friends. And friends was good: it gave her a name to define this thing, as well as a boundary not to cross, and an excuse to keep seeing him for as long as he was willing. It was good to have this understanding, and anything else she could keep to herself.

'Then next time you pick where we eat,' she said.

He grinned. 'You've got yourself a deal.'

0

Lunch was nice. It was nice to do this with someone instead of alone, as she usually did. And it was nice to have his attention focused on her: that made her sit up a bit straighter. He'd never know the confidence he was giving her, just by sitting and talking with her, and listening to her. She didn't think Greg had ever done that: just talked with her and listened like she was the only person in the room. Even when they were dating, he did all the talking. He liked hearing the sound of his own voice.

Tristan wanted to hear her talk, though, so she did, and she had things to say, which surprised her. She found herself able to be open with him in a way she could never be with a man before. She thought he was so easy to talk to because he didn't judge: he just took her at her word, accepted her, everything about her. And she could do that for him too: she could listen and just take what he said and did as meant and true, because there were no lies with him, no deceit: she could see that so clearly in his eyes, and her heart opened and warmed a little more to him.

'Eh, Belle, do you know that it's four o'clock?' he asked, fishing out his phone to check for messages.

'Is it?'

'Yeah. I'm sorry: I've kept you from your errands.'

She shook her head. 'They're not important. To be honest, they just give me something to do, keep me out of the house.'

He studied her. She was lonely, he realised, and he wondered what kind of man would let a woman like her feel lonely.

He leaned over the table a little. 'Next week, I'll take you for the best pasta you've ever had,' he promised.

'Alright,' she agreed, smiling.

He grinned. 'Good.'

They finished their third (fourth?) tea (her) and coffee (him), and Belle signalled for the check.

'We need to make an arrangement,' she said: 'when I choose the restaurant, I pay, and when you choose, you pay.'

She looked like she wouldn't be argued with, so he didn't even try.

'Deal,' he said, smiling.

She smiled and accepted the check, quickly noting the amount and making payment.

'This was really nice, Tristan,' she said: 'thank you.'

'Thank you for asking me. So, I'll pick you up at one next Saturday?'

'Yes,' she said at once: 'I look forward to it.'

And they both spent the week thinking of each other, smiling every time they thought of seeing each other again soon.

0

He took her to a little Italian restaurant she'd never been to, where they did indeed serve the best pasta she'd ever tasted in her life.

'This is wonderful,' she proclaimed, scooping up another mouthful.

He smiled. 'Told you.'

'I like it here,' she said, looking around at the little tables, the dresser against the wall piled with old crockery, the red checked tablecloths and napkins, and the Italian flag and old pictures on the wall: 'the food is better than what we had last week, and less expensive.' She smiled. She hadn't felt so relaxed in such a long time.

He studied her and thought he saw a difference in her. She still had that air of refinement and elegance about her, but she looked even more beautiful to him now. There was a new softness about her face and eyes that he liked. She looked less weary, less worn down, more carefree.

It was being around him that did it: she was happier, felt less fragile, more confident. Even when all of this ended, which she knew it must, he would leave her stronger, and she would thank him forever for that.

She smiled. 'I'd like you to pick where we eat from now on: would you do that?'

'If you'd like,' he said, smiling.

'But we need to amend our other deal, to say that we take turns paying.'

He laughed softly. 'Alright, Belle: whatever you want.'

She smiled. 'Thank you for indulging me.'

'Well, thank you for your company.'

'I've been listening to the album,' she told him then: 'it's the best music I've heard in an age.' She'd been playing it in the evenings at home, enjoying hearing his voice filling her otherwise quiet house.

He saw her earnestness and it made him smile.

'You know, to look at you, I would never have guessed that you'd like my music.'

She smiled. 'Don't fit the profile?'

He smiled. 'It's just that you're such a refined lady: no one would imagine you'd like rock music.'

'I'm not really a music person in general, except that I know what I like, and yours just…speaks to me. Your lyrics and your music just caught my attention.'

'Well, I'm glad you like it.'

'Ariel and Eric tell me that you've got gigs lined up all around the country.'

He nodded. 'Yeah: things are really getting off the ground.' He looked happy and she smiled.

'I'm very happy for you: you deserve it.'

'Thank you. We're going to be pretty busy for the next few months. I probably won't be around much for a while.' Which meant that lunches with her would be few and far between, and he wished that he could take her on the road with him.

She nodded, getting what he was saying. 'I understand: your music is far more important than spending time with me.'

He didn't like how she put herself down so quickly and shook his head.

'You're important to me too, Belle,' he assured her. 'We can have lunch when I'm in town, and there's no reason we can't talk on the phone.'

Belle smiled. Well, it was nice of him to offer, and maybe they would for a while, and maybe he would stop by if he had time, though she knew he was going places and would eventually find other ways to occupy his time. There would be parties and beautiful women, and she would see him on television or read about him in magazines, and there would be many more albums, and maybe she'd go and see him in a big stadium and remember how he was her friend for a while. Because she didn't fool herself into thinking that this would last: their friendship would end sooner rather than later, and it was right that it should, because he had the world at his feet and she was happy for him and didn't want to hold him back, but she'd hold onto this for as long as he was willing to spend time with her, because it was more than any man had ever given her.

'I'd really like that, Tristan,' she murmured.

He grinned.

0

They managed a few more lunch dates before he and the boys went on the road. Things were really taking off now and Belle was happy for him and the boys, and even though he was out of town and busy, he made time to call her, which surprised and pleased her. Things were very tense with Greg at the moment as they negotiated final terms for their divorce, so Tristan's calls always brightened her day.

He made time to call every day when they were on the road. Just hearing her soft voice soothed him when the boys were being idiots and everything was pissing him off. Oh, he loved the gigs, loved singing in front of larger and larger crowds, but being in close quarters with the boys got to him a bit, and the travelling was tiring. They had a hectic schedule and it was great, and the opportunities coming their way were amazing, but it was pretty much non-stop. He liked to write in the downtime, but there wasn't much of that at the moment, and songwriting was the thing that usually soothed him. But now he could call Belle and that helped a lot.

'What are you doing?' he asked one evening they had a break between shows and an evening free. Most evenings they weren't performing, they were travelling or there was an appearance or promotion to do, but not this evening, thankfully.

'I'm watching one of my favourite movies,' she told him: '_Sense and Sensibility_.'

'That's Alan Rickman, right?'

'Yes,' she said: 'you've seen it?'

'Elsie loves Alan Rickman,' he told her.

She smiled. 'He's a fine actor, and he's wonderful in this. How are you?'

'Tired, but we have the night off, so I can get some sleep.'

'Where are you tonight?'

'Chicago.'

'And next?'

'Seattle, I think. There are so many cities I'm losing track.'

She made a sympathetic humming noise. 'I've been hearing "Lost Boy" on the radio a lot.' That was their first single.

'Yeah?'

'Mhm, and it's number one on iTunes.'

He smiled. 'Have you been keeping track?'

'Sorry, you probably know all that already,' she said. She _had_ been keeping track. She did it when Ariel's new stuff came out too, but she'd known Ariel longer.

'I like that you're keeping track,' he said quietly: 'I really like that you like my music, Belle.'

'Well, a lot of people do,' she said. It was true: there was a lot of buzz about Desperate Souls,. The album had just come out last week and it was getting rave reviews.

'But those people are not my friends,' he told her: 'you are, and it means a lot.'

She smiled. She couldn't see him, but she knew he meant that.

'Well, I'm glad things are going well,' she said. 'Get some rest, ok?'

He smiled. 'I will. Good night, Belle.'

'Sweet dreams, Tristan.'

They always were now that they featured her. God, he was really falling for her. It wasn't like it had been with Milah. He was young then, stupid, blind. He hadn't seen the signs that should have been obvious and he'd hated her for what she'd done, but now he thanked her for doing him a favour and he wished her well. He hoped she was happy with Jones, hoped he could be happy with Belle.

He sighed. He knew he needed to take it slow with her, get her to trust him, and maybe then she'd be open to more, but it was hard to hold back: even the thought of kissing that soft mouth made him burn. Then to go further, to think about touching and tasting and feeling, made him shiver, and, fuck, he was hard now. That had been happening a lot lately when he thought of Belle, and he was too weak to not do anything about it.

He went and turned on the shower. Quickly stripping, he stepped under the hot spray and took himself in hand, imagining that the hand was hers, soft and delicate, perfectly manicured. He closed his eyes and pictured her, the way he'd seen her bite her lip, which was so fucking sexy he wanted to moan every time he saw her do it, and those gorgeous blue eyes staring into his, trying to read him. God, he'd tell her anything she wanted to know. And now he imagined her voice: sometimes sweet, sometimes husky, and always musical. He'd never had a thing for Australian accents before, but he did now: oh, God, he did now.

'Belle,' he groaned: 'oh, God, Belle.' He pumped faster, panting, imagining that she was welcoming him, reaching for him, saying 'Tristan, please' in a low, needy voice, biting her lip, moaning–

'Fuck!' he shouted, spilling himself against the shower tile. He leaned back against the other wall, panting and gasping for breath.

He closed his eyes. Maybe this was wrong: maybe he shouldn't, but no one had to know. He could be her friend and still have this: that would be enough.

If only he could fool himself into believing that.


	5. Chapter Five

So, here's Chapter Five, in which Belle and Tristan celebrate something. Thanks so much for reading and all the lovely feedback so far :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Five_

'Well, I think that concludes our business,' Abigail said. 'Mr Gaston, Mr Glass.' She nodded politely.

Glass shook Belle's hand, but Greg wouldn't. He'd made things as difficult as he could, but she'd still gotten what she wanted, and he was bitter and angry. She didn't see why he should be so angry: he'd gotten away with a good chunk of her money and he was free, now, to find himself another rich wife if he wished.

She drew her hand back and Greg turned and walked out.

She'd been going to wish him well until that moment, tell him she hoped he'd find some happiness, but she said nothing in the end. He was out of her life now and she fervently hoped she would never see him again.

'Ladies,' Glass intoned, nodding and then following his client.

Belle sighed. 'It's over.'

Abigail smiled. 'How do you feel?'

'Relieved,' Belle said, smiling. 'Thank you so much for everything, Abigail.'

'You're welcome, Belle: I'm just glad it's finally settled. You can move on with your life now.'

'Yes,' Belle said, and it was only now hitting her that she was finally free. 'I can hardly believe it.'

'What will you do to celebrate?'

'I don't know.' Ariel and Eric were out of the country, Robin would be busy with Roland, and Tristan and the boys were on tour. She didn't have other friends, really. She'd had a social circle when she'd been married to Greg, but she'd called none of those people friends and she hadn't seen any of them since the separation anyway.

'Well, go have some fun anyway,' Abigail suggested.

Belle nodded and smiled. 'Thank you.'

0

Walking down the street from Abigail's office, there was only one thing Belle could think of. Pulling her phone from her purse, she made a call.

Gold smiled at the caller ID. She'd never called him before: he'd always been the one to call her, but her calling him was very welcome.

'Hey, Belle,' he greeted.

'Hey, Tristan,' she returned: 'is this a good time?'

'Perfect,' he assured her. 'How are you?'

'I'm really good, actually.' There was a happiness and a lightness in her voice that struck him.

'Belle?'

'Greg signed the divorce papers,' she told him: 'it's finally over.'

'That's great!' he enthused: 'we should celebrate.'

'I'd like that,' she said, smiling. 'We could have lunch when you get back.' He'd been gone almost a month, and she was longing to see him again.

'Belle, I'm already back in town.' She must have forgotten he said he'd be back today.

'You are?'

'Yeah: we just landed about fifteen minutes ago.'

'Oh, you did tell me you'd be back today,' she said, remembering. 'I'm sorry, it completely slipped my mind.'

'It's fine, Belle,' he said, shaking his head: 'you had a lot on your mind today. Look, why don't I meet you and we can do something to celebrate? We could have dinner: even go dancing.'

'You're sure? You're not too tired from all that travelling?' Still, her heart leapt in joy at the thought of seeing him soon.

'Nah: I'm good. So, what do you say: will you let me take you out to celebrate?'

'I'd really, really like that,' she said, happiness bubbling up inside her.

'Great. Let me go drop off my stuff, grab a shower and a change of clothes, and I'll pick you up about seven?'

'Sounds perfect,' she said, and gave him her address.

0

Belle checked her appearance in the mirror, turning this way and that to be sure she looked ok.

She'd bought a new dress on her way home. It was yellow, almost gold, and there were little crystals sewn onto the bodice that made it glisten in the light. The skirt draped and flowed to just above her knees. She wore the pearl drop pendant her mother had given her and she added a pair of diamond drop earrings and a diamond bracelet to complete the look.

She looked in the mirror again and smiled at herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy. Nor could she remember the last time she'd been out with a man in the evening. She refused to call it a date because it wasn't one: just celebrating good news with a friend, but it was the closest thing she'd had to a date since before she got married.

The doorbell rang and she smiled. _Right on time_, she thought, and hurried down the stairs with her wrap and her purse in her hand.

She pulled open the door and then gasped. Tristan stood on her doorstep in a blue suit with a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. She liked him in his leather and the jeans and t-shirts he habitually wore, but he looked incredible like this as well.

'Hey,' she said, realising she'd forgotten to greet him.

'Hey,' he returned, trying to catch his breath. She looked… 'You look lovely,' he told her, substituting _lovely_ for the word he wanted to use.

She smiled. 'And you look very stylish,' she told him, though stylish wasn't what she thought in her head. 'I like the suit.'

'Thanks. Thought I should wear something other than jeans or leather for such a special occasion.'

'Well, it suits you,' she told him, smiling at him calling her divorce a special occasion.

He smiled. 'Thank you. So, shall we go?'

'Yes: let's.'

'So, where would you like to eat?' he asked.

'I don't mind,' she told him.

He nodded. 'I know a place. It'll probably be busy, but I think I can get us a table.'

She nodded. "Ok.'

They hailed a cab and Tristan gave directions to a restaurant called Violet. Belle had heard of it, but never been. Apparently, it was very exclusive and trendy, and, as the name hinted, the décor was all different shades of purple. When they arrived, there was a line of people waiting, but Tristan bypassed it and led Belle straight up to the door. He said a few words to the doorman and he nodded.

'Of course, Mr Gold,' he said. 'Have a good evening, Sir: Miss.' He unhooked the purple velvet cordon keeping people out and Tristan and Belle passed through into the trendy restaurant.

'They know who you are,' she said, smiling at him.

He smiled a bit sheepishly. 'Yeah: seems we're getting kinda famous. I haven't done that kind of thing before, but this is a special occasion and I didn't want you to have to wait all night to eat, so I thought I'd trade on my fame just this once.'

'Well, it's nice that lots of doors are opening for you,' she said: 'you deserve it.'

He smiled. 'And you deserve a good time tonight,' he said. 'I know it's not my turn, but let me treat you: please?'

She laughed. 'Alright, Tristan: whatever you say.'

'Good,' he said, satisfied.

The maitre d' greeted them with a smile. 'We should have a table for you and your guest in about twenty minutes, Mr Gold, but, in the meantime, you're very welcome to enjoy a drink in the VIP bar.'

'Thanks,' he said, nodding. 'Shall we?' he said to Belle.

'Why not?'

'Very good. If you'd like to follow me.' And the maitre d' led them up some purple-carpeted steps to a very luxuriously decorated seating area where several famous faces were seated. Belle recognised a couple of A-List actors, musicians, and models in the mix. She felt suddenly out of place.

'Please, enjoy,' the maitre d' invited: 'we will call you when your table is ready.'

'Thanks,' Gold said, and then smiled at Belle. She looked a bit tense, though, and he took her hand and she looked up at him.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Sorry: I just… There are a lot of famous people here,' she said: 'it's just a bit odd.'

'Would you rather go somewhere else?' he asked. 'I'm sorry: I didn't mean for you to be uncomfortable.'

'No,' she said, squeezing his hand: 'no, it's ok. This looks like a lovely place and I'm looking forward to seeing if the food is as good as I've heard, and it's nice to be with you and experience what your success has brought. Please, don't worry: the famous people are just people too at the end of the day.'

He smiled, relieved. 'Well, how about some Champagne to celebrate your divorce?'

'That would be lovely,' she agreed.

He ordered a couple of glasses and Belle smiled at him.

'You're the first person to know about the papers being signed besides my lawyer, so I'd like it if you'd propose a toast,' she said. 'It's good luck, you know.'

He smiled. 'So I believe. Alright: a toast to Belle and her future. May every day be better than the last: may your life be filled with more happiness, more joy, more laughter, and more love than you could ever imagine possible. Cheers.'

Her heart thumped in gratitude at his lovely words and she clinked her glass against his. 'Cheers: thank you, Tristan.' She reached out and touched his hand.

He turned his hand so he could hold hers. 'You're quite welcome, Belle.'

They chatted for a bit about how the tour had gone (very well, Tristan said), and Belle managed to forget that she was surrounded by famous people. After about twenty minutes, someone came to tell them that their table was ready and they made their way through the VIP bar to go into the restaurant. To get there, they had to pass a second bar, where other people were waiting to be seated for dinner. Belle was paying attention to nothing but the feeling of Tristan's hand on the small of her back, but the sound of a familiar voice calling her name made her pause.

'Belle Gaston?' the same voice called.

Belle turned and looked into the face of a woman with shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes. There was a woman with reddish brown hair with her too. Both women looked surprised to see her and they looked curiously at the man by her side.

Gold had felt Belle tense at the sight of the two women. He noticed both of them looking at him and he slipped his arm further around Belle's waist.

'Hello, Regina,' Belle greeted the brunette: 'Faye,' she said, nodding to the other woman. 'It's Belle French, actually, and has been for quite some time, as I'm sure you're aware. You might _not_ be aware, though, that Greg signed the divorce papers today, so it'll soon be official. That means that you can have him back free and clear, Regina, or you can, Faye.' She nearly laughed at the looks on both women's faces. 'Oh, you thought I didn't know? Sorry to disappoint you, ladies, but I'm not as naïve as you always thought I was, and I'm not stupid either: I always knew about your activities with my ex-husband, but it seems _you_ didn't know that he'd been seeing both of you. Oh, dear.

'Well, if you'll excuse us, we were just going in to dinner: enjoy your evening,' Belle said lightly, and she turned and walked away.

Gold followed immediately, wrapping his arm around her waist again.

He didn't say anything until they'd been shown to their table and then, as he took his seat opposite her, he smiled.

'That was absolutely fucking brilliant,' he praised.

Belle looked up at him and some tension seemed to leave her as she let out a breath.

'I have wanted to do that for years,' she admitted. 'I know it wasn't very ladylike of me, but–'

'Oh, screw that,' he told her. 'It wasn't ladylike of _them_ to have an affair with your ex-husband. By the way, if I ever meet that bastard, I may just punch him. Actually, never mind _may_, I _will_ punch him.'

She smiled and then shook her head. 'Don't do that: you'll hurt your hand and you won't be able to play your guitar, but thank you for the thought.'

'How did you know about the affairs?' he asked carefully, letting her know she didn't have to answer.

'Wives always know,' she told him. 'Often they don't say anything because they're scared and want to pretend like it isn't happening.'

'Was it that way for you?'

'Yes, for a while,' she admitted: 'there were other reasons I ignored it too.'

'Belle, I'm sorry.' He reached for her hand across the table.

She smiled. 'Thank you.' She squeezed his hand.

'I can't imagine how horrible it was.'

'Well, you know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you love.'

'Yeah, but we weren't married. At least I found out before the wedding. He married you with you believing he loved you.'

'Yes,' she agreed, 'and then, when I realised why he'd married me, I stayed anyway, even when I learned of the other women. I shouldn't have stayed with him, I know, but I did. I suppose I was afraid of what would happen if I left, and my father was fond of Greg, and I didn't want to let him down.' She shook her head. 'It makes no sense, I know.'

He squeezed her hand. 'No: knowing you, Belle, it makes all the sense in the world. You have a kind, generous heart, and you'd never cause pain if you could avoid it.'

She smiled, touched. 'That's sweet of you to say.'

'It's the truth,' he told her. 'Can I give you some advice, though, if it's not too weird to get advice from a kid?'

'You're not a kid, Tristan: you're more a man than Greg ever was, and I would be happy to hear any advice you could give.'

He leaned across the table and looked into her eyes. 'Don't do anything that isn't gonna make you happy, Belle: do it for your happiness first, and then, if it makes someone else happy too, consider it a bonus.'

She smiled. 'Very good advice, that.'

He smiled. 'I'll tell Aggie you think so.'

0

'That was very nice, Tristan: thank you,' Belle said as they walked down the street from the restaurant.

'Well, you're welcome, but the night is young yet.' He smiled.

'I suppose it is,' she agreed, feeling carefree and brave in his company.

'So what would you like to do next? We can do anything you want.'

She bit her lip. 'Well, it's been years since I went dancing.'

He nodded, trying not to react to her biting her lip. 'Then dancing it is.'

0

It wasn't what she imagined. Perhaps she was old-fashioned, but she didn't think of what those young men and women were doing as dancing. Well, in one way it was, since dancing, or some dances anyway, were a metaphor for sex, but that, what those couples were doing, was taking it way too literally.

Gold knew he couldn't do that with Belle. She'd likely run a mile if he suggested they try it, but he didn't want to dance like that with her anyway. That sort of bumping and grinding was for teenage hormones, not for classy women like Belle. He didn't want a poor simulation of sex with Belle: he wanted the real thing, but only if and when she was ready.

'This isn't what I had in mind,' he told her.

'Me neither,' she said, pretty sure she was blushing.

'Let's get out of here,' he suggested.

She nodded and followed him back out to the street.

'Well, I'd suggest a different club, but I doubt it'd be much better.'

'It's fine,' she said: 'maybe we could just walk for a bit.'

He nodded and they did just that, walking through the city and talking companionably.

'How did you meet the boys?' Belle asked. They'd been talking a bit more about the tour, and she realised she'd never heard how he met his friends.

He smiled. 'After everything with Milah went to hell, I decided to move to London to try my luck properly in the music business. I'd done a few gigs and busking in Glasgow, but I thought I might as well use the end of the relationship as an opportunity instead of something to moan about, so I packed up and headed to London.

'I was in a bar, drowning my sorrows, when this guy with a black eye walks in. It was Victor. Apparently, he'd been chasing after some other guy's girlfriend or wife or something, and the guy punched him. I asked him where he got the shiner and he told me, and the pair of us sat for a while, drinking and chatting.

'Somehow, we got onto the subject of music, and then the bartender, a yank named Jefferson, got in on the conversation. The three of us realised we had musical tastes in common. Then Jeff said he'd played drums for a few bands that went nowhere, Victor said he'd done the same on keyboards, and they looked at me.

'I don't know what possessed me, but I suggested we try gigging together. I mentioned I had a few songs we could work on and it took off from there. We spent a couple of years gigging around London and all over Britain, and then we met Richard Midas. He liked our stuff and next thing we knew, we were here, doing gigs, working on songs for the album, and working with Eric.'

'And here you are,' Belle said with a smile.

'And here we are,' he agreed. 'They drive me nuts on occasion, but they're like my brothers.' He smiled. 'So, how did you meet Ariel?'

'Oh, it was about fifteen years ago. She agreed to sing at a charity event I was helping to organise. We got chatting and we just hit it off.' She smiled. 'I'd never had a friend like her before: I tell her everything.'

He nodded. 'It's nice to have that: someone you can confide in.'

They walked on in companionable silence for a bit.

'Can I ask you something else?' he asked carefully.

'Of course.'

'What made you decide to leave him? Feel free to tell me to mind my own business if you like.'

She smiled and shook her head. 'No: I don't mind talking about it with you. When my father died, I realised I'd done nothing for myself with my life. I realised that everything I thought I'd wanted wasn't what I really wanted at all, and that everything I'd done, I'd done for other people instead of myself. I no longer loved Greg, and I hadn't for several years, and, with Dad gone, I couldn't see the sense in staying in the marriage any more. I knew I should have left long ago, but a combination of fear and the unwillingness to upset my father made me stay. After Dad died, I couldn't find another excuse to stay.

'I was terrified, but, one day, I went and got some boxes and started packing. I called Ariel and she and Eric organised a truck and helped me pack up. Greg came home in the middle of it all and I told him then and there that I was leaving. I told him he could have the house and I'd be in touch about a divorce settlement.

'He wasn't happy. I think he thought he could walk all over me and I'd just accept it. I think he thought I'd always be there for him to take advantage of. I'd known for a long time that he liked my money more than me and when I left, he was afraid the money would dry up too. It wasn't his spending that bothered me: there's always been plenty of money from Mum's family and Dad's inventions, but it began to upset me how very obvious it was how much he cared about it and how little he cared for me.'

She sniffled. 'Ugh: sorry.'

He put his hand out. 'No. Oh, Belle: I'm sorry I asked. Please, you don't have to tell me any more: let's forget about it.'

'No, it's alright: it's just that I get angry with myself for staying for so long when I knew how things really were. It helps to talk about it: really.' And she took his hand and squeezed gently.

He smiled. 'Well, it's all in the past, now: you're free of him.'

She smiled. 'Yes, and I feel like a great weight's been lifted from me: I feel like I could walk on air.' And she looked like she wanted to try doing just that.

He laughed softly. 'How about dancing in the street instead?' he asked.

Belle looked at him for a moment and then she dipped into a graceful curtsey, remembered from her ballet days.

'I would love to,' she told him.

Heart pounding, Gold pulled her close, but not too close. Then they swayed in time to some imaginary music, turning on the spot. Gold stepped back and spun her around, and Belle laughed as they got some funny looks and smiles from passersby.

She didn't mind the attention, though: she was happy, happier than she'd ever been. She was free of Greg, loved her work, loved the changes in her life since leaving her marriage, and had found a wonderful friend in Tristan. She wouldn't allow herself to think any dark thoughts tonight.

Gold smiled at her smile. He liked seeing her happy, liked the thought of her being happy with him. He really wanted to kiss her, but he stopped himself, because this was nice, and he didn't want to take the chance of ruining it with emotions that she wasn't ready for. Anything more they did had to be her decision. He would wait as long as it took.

As they came to a stop, Belle hugged him.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

'You're quite welcome,' he murmured.

They broke apart after a moment.

'It's getting late,' he said: 'may I escort you home?'

She smiled. 'Thank you.'

0

He followed her up the steps, wanting to go in, but knowing he couldn't. Part of him hoped she'd ask, but he knew she wouldn't.

She was wondering what he'd say if she asked him in. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop herself saying anything foolish. She knew that just because she wanted him, it didn't mean he wanted her, and she didn't want to lose him by doing anything silly.

'Thank you for tonight, Tristan: you've no idea how much it means to me.'

He smiled. 'I'm glad I could do this with you.'

She smiled and hugged him briefly.

'Good night,' she murmured.

'Sweet dreams, Belle.' He moved backwards, watching her.

Belle turned to let herself into the house. She almost turned back and called out to him, but she stopped herself: she just wasn't brave enough to step over that line between friendship and something more, not tonight at least.

**Well, there you go. Reading over this, I realised that, after the 4a finale, there's a bit of overlap with canon Belle. That was totally not intentional, but I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway. Chapter six coming soon.**


	6. Chapter Six

So, here's Chapter Six. Not giving anything about this one away. Thanks so much for reading and for all the lovely feedback so far :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Six_

A few days after dinner with Belle, Gold was sitting on the roof with his guitar and a pad and pencil at hand. A melody and snatches of lyrics had been floating around his head for a while and he thought it was time he got them down on paper.

He was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing and he put down the guitar and pulled it from his pocket.

'Gold?'

'Hello, Tristan, it's Midas.'

'Oh, Mr Midas: how are you?'

'Very well, Tristan: very well. I have some good news for you.'

'Oh?'

'I've just been given confirmation that the album's gone platinum.'

Gold nearly choked. 'You're kidding, right?'

Midas chuckled. 'I assure you I'm not. I knew I was on to something when I signed you guys. You know, this is the fastest selling debut album I've ever had.'

'Oh, my God,' Gold breathed.

Midas laughed. 'You sound surprised.'

'I am,' Gold agreed.

'Well, you deserve it. Go ahead and tell Jeff and Victor. Throw a party and send the bills to me. I'll stop by later and say hello.'

'Ok,' Gold said, stunned.

Midas laughed again. 'Breathe, Tristan: I'll see you later, ok?'

'Yeah: thanks.'

0

Jefferson saw the stunned look on his face and was immediately alarmed.

'Trist?' He jumped out of his seat and went to his friend. 'Hey: you ok?'

'I just got a call from Richard Midas,' Gold said.

'Oh?'

'Yeah: he said the album's gone platinum.'

There was a beat of silence and then all hell broke loose.

'_What_?!' 'Fuck off!'

Gold looked from Jefferson to Victor, and started to smile at the looks on their faces.

'Yeah,' he said simply. 'Fastest selling debut he's ever had, apparently.'

'Jesus,' Jefferson breathed, sinking into a chair.

'I don't fucking believe it,' Victor added, leaning against the wall for support.

There was silence for a long moment and then Gold started to laugh. He didn't know where it came from, but he couldn't stop it.

The boys stared at him for a moment and then joined in.

It was several minutes before they pulled themselves together and then Gold rallied them into action.

'We're having a party. Midas said to bill everything to him and he'll be around later. Let's not make it too big, though: just the important people.'

Jefferson and Victor nodded and got their phones out.

0

Belle smiled at the caller ID.

'Hey, Tristan.'

'Hey: are you busy?'

'I'm cataloguing some new books,' she told him.

'Do you think you could close up early and come by my place?'

She frowned at the tone of his voice and the request.

'Why: what's wrong?'

He laughed. 'Nothing's wrong, b- – Belle: everything's great.' He'd been about to call her babe, but stopped himself just in time.

Belle had caught on to his odd mood.

'Tristan, what's going on?' she asked, worried that something was wrong and he was trying to spare her.

'Belle, our album's gone platinum.'

She was silent for a short beat.

'That's good…right?' she asked.

He laughed again. 'Sorry: it means we've sold a million copies, so yeah, it's good.'

Belle sucked in a breath. 'A million copies in a month? But that's amazing! Oh, s- – Tristan, I'm so happy for you, and the boys.'

'Thank you, Belle,' he said contentedly. 'We're having a party: that's why I asked if you could close early and come by.'

'You really want me there?' she asked, surprised and touched.

'Of course I do,' he told her. 'I always want you here, Belle,' he added. He wasn't sure he should say that: it was getting very close to how he truly felt about her, but perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to put a few statements like that out there if it meant she might get the hint that he was open to more than friendship.

Belle's heart beat fast. 'Then I would love to join you. Give me your address and I'll see you soon.'

0

The door was open when Belle arrived and she heard the sounds of jovial voices. She entered the loft apartment and looked around for the boys.

'Belle!'

She turned at the sound of Ariel's voice and held her arms out for a hug.

'Hey, Ariel,' she greeted. 'Hey, Eric,' she added, as Ariel's husband came over.

'You look wonderful, Belle,' Ariel observed, looking her friend over: 'divorce definitely agrees with you, sweetie.'

Belle laughed softly. 'Well, it's not official yet, but I am very happy.' And she smiled as she saw Tristan coming towards them.

Gold smiled and swept her into a hug.

Ariel smiled at the pair of them and shot a triumphant look at her husband, who only smiled and nodded, conceding the point.

'You made it,' Gold murmured.

'Of course,' she said, looking up at him: 'I wouldn't miss this. Congratulations, Tristan: I'm so happy for you and the boys.'

He pulled her into another hug, squeezing her a little.

'Thank you, Belle.' He so wanted to hold her and never let go, or take her hand and take her away somewhere they could talk and tell her how he really felt about her, but he kept having to remind himself to follow her lead.

She smiled up at him and then pulled away as Jefferson and Victor came over.

'Hey, Belle: thanks for coming,' Jefferson greeted, hugging her.

'Yeah: it's great to see you,' Victor added, hugging her as well.

Belle smiled at the boys, touched that they were happy to see her.

'I hear the tour went very well,' she said, making conversation.

'It was great,' Jefferson told her.

'A hit,' Victor agreed.

Belle smiled. 'Well, congratulations on the album sales: it's really wonderful.'

The boys grinned. They got distracted then, as a few of their friends arrived, and they went off to play host.

'I'd better keep an eye on them,' Gold said, touching Belle's arm. 'See you later?'

'I'll be here,' she promised.

'Good.'

'Eric, can you get us some drinks, please?' Ariel asked her husband.

Eric looked between his wife and her friend.

'Sure thing,' he said with a smile and ambled away, apparently in no hurry to get drinks: he knew that was just his wife's code for 'go away and let me talk to Belle'.

'You really do look great, Belle,' Ariel observed: 'relaxed, happier.'

Belle took her friend's hand and pulled her over to the corner.

'What is it?' Ariel asked, smiling at the look on her face. Belle was lit up from inside: she looked radiant.

Belle shook her head, smiling. 'I don't know: I just… I feel good, you know? I feel like I could do anything. I've been spending some time with Tristan and… I just think maybe I was meant to meet him. He's…'

'You have feelings for him,' Ariel guessed.

Belle nodded, her eyes flicking around to be sure no one was listening.

'I do. I nearly called him sweetheart on the phone earlier.' She blushed and Ariel smiled. 'I just don't know if he would think of me like that.'

'What does your heart tell you?'

'Twenty things at once: that's the problem. What should I do, Ariel?'

Ariel squeezed her hand. 'Tell him.'

'You really think I should?' Belle asked.

'Belle, you told me a while ago that you didn't want to go another twenty years as you were: this is your chance to avoid that.'

Belle nodded. 'You're right.' She squeezed her friend's hand.

Ariel smiled at the confident look on Belle's face.

'Ah, Ariel.'

'Oh, hello, Richard,' Ariel greeted the head of the recording studio. 'How are you? Wonderful news about the album.'

'Indeed, and I'm very well, thank you. How are you and that husband of yours?'

'Oh, fine, fine: thanks for asking. I'd like to introduce my best friend, Belle French: Belle, this is Richard Midas, the founder and CEO of Midas Records.'

'Well, it's a pleasure, Ms French,' Midas said, holding out his hand.

Belle shook it, smiling.

'By any chance, would you be related to Abigail Midas?' she asked.

'Ah, you know my daughter?' he asked.

'She helped me out with my divorce,' Belle said.

Gold noticed Belle and Midas chatting from where he stood across the room. Midas was holding Belle's hand and they looked like they were getting on like a house on fire.

_Figures_, Gold thought: of course Midas would like Belle. He must be about ten years older than her: probably a better fit for her than he could ever be.

'I'm gonna get some air,' he said to Victor, and headed out the fire escape and up to the roof for some peace.

Belle saw him go, though, and thought that now was as good a time as any to be brave and reveal her feelings to him.

She excused herself, saying she needed some air, and followed Tristan.

As soon as she reached the fire escape, she could hear him strumming on a guitar. She paused, listening to the music.

The melody was more soulful than rocky, and, like all of his music, it touched her in a way that nothing ever had before. It was like his music expressed her attraction to him, somehow: it was soul deep, mesmerising, and utterly inexplicable.

She hadn't realised that she was moving until she was stepping onto the roof. She figured that, now that she'd come this far, she could go the rest of the way, and walked towards him.

He paused in his playing to note something down on the pad beside him, and he must have heard her footsteps, because he looked up.

'Hey,' he breathed, surprised.

'Hey,' she returned. 'I'm sorry: I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's ok. Are you alright?'

She nodded. 'I saw you leave and thought we could talk, if you wanted.'

'Course,' he said, making room for her on the make shift bench he was sitting on.

'That was beautiful,' she said, gesturing to his guitar: 'is it new? I haven't heard it before.'

'Thanks,' he said. 'Yeah: it's been floating around my head for a while, so I figured that means it's ready to be written down.'

'Do you always compose alone?' she asked.

He nodded. 'The boys just drive me mad. I don't show them anything or let them hear anything until I'm happy with it. Then we start working on the arrangement. It's a system that works pretty well for us.'

She smiled. 'Well, I think that's going to be a beautiful song.'

There was a strange look in his eyes as he looked back at her.

'Thanks: hopefully you'll hear it one day.' He packed the guitar and notepad away.

'So, I see you met Mr Midas,' he said.

'Oh, yes,' she agreed: 'he's actually my divorce lawyer's father.'

'Oh, right,' he said, his mood lifting a little. Maybe that was why she'd been so chatty with Midas, then.

'Tristan, I–'

'Hey, Trist! Get your ass down here: we need you!'

Gold rolled his eyes at the sound of Jefferson's yell.

'Jesus Christ: I can't get a moment's peace with those two,' he complained.

'You'd better go see what he wants,' Belle said.

He sighed. 'I suppose you're right.' He stood and so did she.

She followed him back into the apartment, hoping that her courage would keep for a while.

'Ok, attention please!' Victor called over the noise, as he saw Tristan come back in. 'Oi!' he yelled, when the gathered crowd didn't shush quickly enough for him. 'Thank you,' he said, when he'd finally got silence. 'Jeff and I wanted to say something.'

'Yeah,' Jefferson agreed. 'Tristan, get over here,' he called.

Belle smiled as Tristan went and joined them.

'What are you two up to?' he demanded.

'Shut up,' Victor commanded.

Tristan stared at him and then shook his head, rolling his eyes.

'Everyone, Jeff and I know full well that neither of us would be here without this man right here, so we would like you all to raise your glasses to Mr Tristan Gold, the best fucking friend a guy could ask for and the genius behind Desperate Souls.'

'Ah, Victor,' Tristan protested.

'Shut _up_,' Victor commanded again.

'To Tristan,' Jefferson added: 'our fearless leader.'

Belle raised her glass and smiled as she caught Tristan's eye.

'To Tristan,' she echoed, as the rest of the crowd followed suit.

'Jesus Christ,' Gold said, overwhelmed. He looked between Victor and Jefferson, smiling. 'I don't have a lot of family, not blood family anyway,' he said, 'but you two are my brothers in every way that matters. I fucking hate you sometimes, but I love you all the time. Ugh, come here.' And he pulled both men towards him and kissed them both on the cheek.

Belle teared up at seeing them: three brothers sharing their success. She was so happy for them: it couldn't happen to three nicer people.

'Long may it last,' she murmured.

0

As the evening wore into night, more friends started to arrive and the mood got more and more festive as the alcohol flowed.

Belle smiled as she watched Tristan and his friends interact with their friends. She was hoping for a chance to talk to Tristan alone. She didn't want this day to end without her telling him how she felt, because if it did, she didn't know when she would feel brave enough again.

That was why she declined Ariel and Eric's offer of a lift home when they came and told her they were leaving.

'I'm going to stay,' Belle told her friend, looking into her eyes.

Ariel smiled and hugged her. 'Good luck, sweetie: I know it will be fine.'

'How do you know that?' Belle asked, amused because she already knew the answer.

'I'm an optimist.'

Belle laughed. 'Good night, darling: thank you for the pep talk.'

'You're welcome, sweetie.'

Belle bade her friends good night and then smiled as Jefferson came over to her.

'You staying for a while, Belle?' he asked.

She nodded. 'I thought I would, yes,' she replied.

'Cool,' he said: 'you want another drink?'

'Sure,' she said easily, following him into the kitchen area. 'You know, I think that was very nice what you and Victor said about Tristan earlier: I'm sure he appreciates it.'

He smiled as he handed her a glass of wine.

'Yeah, he drives us mad sometimes, but we love him.'

She laughed. 'He says the same about you two.'

He laughed. 'I know. We piss each other off, but if we didn't, I don't think we could work together, you know? We don't hold anything in: when we're pissed, we let it out, and then we're cool again, and the anger makes for great collaboration.'

She smiled. 'I can understand that. You're really very talented, all of you.'

'Thanks, but it's true what we said: he's the genius.' And he looked towards Tristan, but his eye was caught by the blonde making her way towards him as he sat on the couch talking to Victor and Ruby and a couple of friends.

'Oh, crap: that's not good,' he muttered.

'What is it?' Belle asked.

She turned and saw a woman sitting in Tristan's lap. She had strawberry blonde curls and had plastered herself to him. He was staring up at her, mouth open.

Belle shivered. Of course she knew that that must be his type, but his hands on the woman's waist was not something she wanted to see.

'Actually, I think it's time for me to call it a night,' she said quietly. 'Thank you so much for your company, Jeff.'

'Hey, Belle,' he began, but she was already heading out the door.

0

'Hey, why don't you and I have a little fun?' Zelena purred into his ear, pressing against him.

She worked for the record company and Gold had found her _forward_ to say the least. She was an airhead, and only interested in him for the fame and the lifestyle. Right now, she reeked of alcohol, and then she started cackling like some kind of witch.

'Thanks, Zelena, but I'm not interested,' he stated categorically. 'Do you mind?' And he put his hands on her waist, intending to push her off him.

He managed it and she did not look happy, but he didn't care.

'Hey, Trist.'

He turned and saw Jefferson looking a bit tense.

'What is it?'

'Belle saw that,' he said, coming towards him.

'What?' Gold asked, his heart plummeting. 'Where is she?'

'She left.'

'Shit!' Gold hurried after her.

He raced down the stairs instead of waiting for the damn elevator, and, gaining the street, he looked frantically up and down for a petite woman with long brown curls.

He saw her, walking fast, even in her heels, and he hurried after her.

'Belle!'

She didn't hear, or didn't stop even if she did. He shouted her name again.

She faltered, but kept walking. He caught up to her and grabbed her hand.

'Let me go, please,' she requested, keeping her back to him.

He dropped her hand like he'd been burned. 'I'm sorry,' he breathed: 'I just wanted you to know that I've got absolutely no interest in that bimbo. She works for the record company, but I–'

'You don't owe me any explanations, Tristan. You can go on back to your party.'

'Belle, don't go,' he begged.

'I think I should: it's late.'

'I'm asking you to stay.'

'Why does it matter so much to you?' she asked, genuinely confused. And he saw that confusion on her face as she turned to face him finally.

He went to reach for her hand again and stopped himself.

'It matters because you're my… No, you know what: I can't do this any more. I thought I could handle this, but I can't: I can't be your friend.'

Hurt flashed across her face and she took a step back from him. Immediately he saw his mistake and reached out.

'No, no: I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean that I don't care for you.'

'Then what did you mean?' she asked, hurt and wary.

'Ah, Belle, I'm so…' He stepped closer and reached up, his fingertips tracing her cheek, making her catch her breath, both at his touch and at the aching look in his eyes. 'Belle, I want you, so fucking badly I can hardly breathe. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I–'

He stopped talking abruptly because her lips were pressed to his, all of her inhibitions surmounted at last. He moaned, wrapping his arm around her waist, burying the fingers of his other hand in her hair.

'Yes,' he breathed, feeling her lips part: 'oh, God, yes.' He slipped his tongue into her mouth and explored its caverns.

She whimpered, shaking, and he pulled her closer and closer, his hand caressing her arse over the fabric of her dress.

'You're a goddess,' he sighed out.

Her kisses were desperate and needy, and full of want, but so were his. God, he wanted to kiss her everywhere and all at once.

At this moment, Belle felt like she'd separated into two people in her head: one, the reckless, impulsive woman who wanted him right here and right now, and the other, the fearful woman who'd been married to Greg for twenty years and who was terrified of getting her heart broken again.

Tristan wouldn't do that, though, she reasoned with her doubtful side: he never said or did anything he didn't mean, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw no artifice or lies.

_But what if you're wrong?_ That fearful voice was suddenly loud in her head, and her heart started hammering as she began to panic.

He was pulling her tight against him, his hand squeezing her arse, but all she felt was rising hysteria.

Suddenly it was all too much, and she pushed against him, scrambling to get away.

Realising that she didn't want to be held, he let her go immediately.

'You alright?' he asked, frowning.

'I have to go,' she said.

'What?' He was sure he'd heard her wrong.

'I have to go,' she said, more harshly. 'Please, don't come by the library and don't call me: I don't want to see you.'

'I don't understand,' he said, his heart dropping into his stomach.

'I don't know how to make it plainer: I don't want to see you again.'

'What's this about, Belle? You kiss me and then tell me you don't want to see me again: what sense does that make?'

'I'm done talking,' she said, her body starting to tremble. She needed to get out of there, fast.

'You…' But he had no idea how to finish that sentence, and she clearly didn't want to hear it, judging by the look on her face. Suddenly he felt angry.

'Fine,' he growled: 'go, then.' But he left first, turning to go back to the party. Maybe he'd drink until he forgot he knew her.

When he was gone, Belle wrapped her arms around herself and shook for a long moment.

_See?_ That frightened voice was back. _See? He hurt you, just like you knew he would._

Tears trickled down her cheeks and she turned and walked away.


	7. Chapter Seven

Here we are at Chapter Seven. This chapter features an original song written by Tristan, well, me. I am not a songwriter: this is the first time I have ever written a song, so please bear that in mind when you read this! Hopefully it's not complete crap! Thanks so much for reading and for all the lovely feedback so far :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Seven_

'What happened?' Jefferson saw the look on Tristan's face when he came back in, and Belle hadn't come back with him, so something terrible had happened.

Gold glared at Jefferson. 'Don't fucking ask.'

'Tristan…'

'I said fucking leave it, alright.' He downed the Scotch and poured himself another. He downed that too and then caught sight of Zelena. Maybe she was exactly what he needed to forget about Belle: the complete opposite of the glorious woman who haunted his dreams, and who he could never have.

'_No_, Tristan,' Jefferson hissed, seeing what he was going to do: '_don't_.'

'Fuck off and don't tell me what to do,' Gold snarled.

'What about Belle?'

'What about her?' he snapped.

Jefferson studied his friend. He was obviously upset and Jefferson knew that talking would help him more than drinking and making the worst mistake of his life with that airhead Zelena.

'What _happened_, Tristan?' he demanded now.

Tristan shot him a miserable look. 'She doesn't want anything to do with me. She fucking kisses me and then tells me she wants nothing to do with me. What the fuck am I supposed to make of that?'

Jefferson looked at him. He was obviously really hung up on her and he knew he had to try to make him feel better about it all.

'Maybe she just got scared,' he suggested. 'You're kind of a big deal now, Trist: maybe she thought she wasn't good enough or something.'

Gold stared at him, disbelieving. 'Belle not good enough for me? Come off it, Jeff.'

'I'm serious, Tristan. I know I don't know her as well as you do, but even I can see she's fragile. Maybe she's afraid you'll move on, get really famous and forget her.'

The more Jefferson said, the more he believed that what he was saying was true. Belle believed he'd move on, and she was scared of getting attached because of that.

'You're crazy about her: any idiot can see that.'

'Yeah,' Gold agreed. It was true: he was mad about Belle.

'Then what are you doing sitting here, contemplating making a stupid mistake with some bimbo who could never compare to the woman you want? Don't give up on her, man,' Jefferson entreated, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Gold buried his head in his hands. He felt like shit.

'I did,' he rasped out: 'I already fucking did. I told her to go. Jesus. _Fuck_!'

'Then go after her!'

'I don't know where she went!'

'Then fucking _call_ her!' Jefferson snapped.

Gold stared at him. 'Right,' he said, more reasonable now: 'yeah.' She'd have gone home. He'd go there. Or maybe he should call her first. No point going to her house if she wasn't going to let him in.

The call went straight to voicemail, but he left a message.

'Belle, I'm sorry. I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. I didn't want you to go: I don't want you to go. Please, let's talk about this. I do want you, Belle, so much it hurts. Please: please call me back.'

Call made, he leaned against the wall and sighed.

0

Belle couldn't stop shaking. She'd managed to find a cab and got home, but she couldn't stop shaking. She stood in her entryway, bewildered, unable to think what to do, and she leaned back against the door and sank to the ground, trembling more violently as tears started to fall again.

She'd been in his arms, being kissed and touched by him. It was everything she'd wanted, and she'd thrown it all away.

What had she done?

She sat for a long while, hours, maybe, crying and shivering, and then she couldn't take it any more.

Dragging herself to her feet, she went to her room and started pulling clothes out of drawers and her wardrobe. She needed to get out of town for a while, needed to try to figure out what to do. She packed a bag and called a cab, and left in the middle of the night.

0

'Hey.'

'What's the matter?'

'You sound upset.'

Gold sighed. He would never know how Aggie and Elsie could read him so well, but they'd always been able to, just as they'd always been so in tune with each other that they could finish each other's sentences.

'I've really made a mess of something,' he confessed.

'Tell us about it,' Aggie commanded.

'We'll help you sort it out,' Elsie added.

'Nothing that can't be fixed with a little talking through.'

'And you know we like to talk, dear.'

He smiled sadly. 'Don't know that talking will fix this one, but I'll try. You know that woman I told you about: Belle?'

'The librarian.'

'The one going through a messy divorce.'

'Yeah: her. Her friend Ariel told me to take it easy with her because she's fragile, but last night I told her how I really feel about her and she kissed me, but then she pulled away and said she doesn't want to see me again.'

Aggie made a _tsk_-ing sound and Elsie hummed sympathetically.

'I know I rushed her: I know I scared her away, but I don't want to lose her. I've left messages and texts, but she hasn't called me back. I don't know what to do. Should I keep trying? Should I give her some space?'

'Do you think she cares for you?'

'I don't know. It sure seemed like she did when she kissed me.'

'Then give her a little time.'

'She may just have been overwhelmed, dear.'

'Give her a few days to think and then go and see her.'

Gold sighed. His mothers always gave good advice.

'Ok,' he said: 'thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'You're a smart lad.'

'You'd have figured it out on your own eventually.'

He smiled fondly. 'How are you both? Is there anything you need?'

'So thoughtful,' Elsie murmured affectionately.

'Just look after yourself and we'll be happy.'

'I promise,' Gold vowed.

'Good lad.'

'We love you.'

'I love you too.'

0

Belle called Ariel when she'd arrived at her destination, a cottage on the beach that she and Ariel had stayed at before.

'Hey, sweetie: I'm surprised to hear from you. I was thinking it would be a couple days at least before I heard from you.'

'Ariel,' Belle whispered.

'Belle? What's wrong?' Ariel did not like the sound of Belle's voice at all.

'Oh, Ariel, I've made such a terrible mistake.'

Ariel's heart thudded. 'Sweetie, tell me where you are and I'll be right there.'

It was late when she arrived at the cottage. There was a light on and the door was unlocked, and Ariel made her way quickly to the bedroom, where she found Belle curled up, her eyes red, fresh tears trickling down her cheeks.

'Ariel,' she breathed, her voice scratchy and sad.

'Oh, sweetie,' Ariel sighed, hurrying to her. She climbed into the bed, wrapped her arms around her friend, and held her as she cried.

0

Hours later, Belle woke, her head pounding, and smelled something cooking. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten and she wasn't sure she could now, but the smell reminded her that she was no longer alone in the house: Ariel had come.

Ariel turned as Belle came into the kitchen.

'Hey,' she greeted, smiling.

'Hey,' Belle greeted. 'You're a good friend, Ariel.'

Ariel smiled and waved it off as nothing. 'Do you think you could eat something?'

Belle smiled weakly. 'I know you're going to make me try,' she said, sitting at the table.

'You're right: I am,' Ariel agreed. 'I want you to eat and rest. We'll talk when you feel like it.'

Under Ariel's watchful eye, Belle did manage to eat a little. She resolutely pushed away the thoughts of Tristan that came: she didn't want to cry any more right now.

0

Ariel didn't ask any questions: she simply waited for Belle to talk to her.

It happened sooner than she expected.

Early the next morning, she came out onto the porch and found Belle sitting curled up on a wicker sofa, watching the waves.

'How long have you been up?' she asked.

'An hour or so,' Belle told her: 'I couldn't sleep.'

'I understand,' Ariel said, sitting beside her.

'I kissed Tristan,' Belle murmured, resting her head on Ariel's shoulder. 'He told me he wanted me so much he couldn't breathe and I kissed him. Then I got scared and pushed him away.'

'I see.'

'I didn't mean to: I…I just got caught up in my fear.'

'You didn't want to stop kissing him?'

'No,' Belle admitted.

'Well, that's good.'

'How is that good?' Belle asked, raising her head to look at her friend: 'he must hate me now.'

'I'm sure that's not true,' Ariel soothed.

A tear trickled down Belle's cheek.

'You didn't see the look on his face after I panicked. I told him I didn't want to see him again. I didn't mean it, but he thought I did and he told me to go. He has every right to hate me.'

'Oh, sweetie,' Ariel murmured, pulling her into her arms.

I ruined it, Ariel,' she breathed: 'I could've had everything I've ever wanted and I ruined it.'

Ariel hugged her tight, stroking her hair and letting her cry.

0

He waited three days. Belle didn't call and he decided that enough was enough. He went to the library first, but there was a woman there with short dark hair, and no sign of Belle.

'Can I help you?' she asked.

'I'm looking for Belle.'

'She took some time off,' she said, looking curiously at him.

He ran a hand through his hair. 'Right: thanks.' And he left, heading straight for Belle's house.

He rang and rang and knocked and knocked, but there was no answer. If Belle was there, she wasn't answering.

He tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail.

'Damn it, Belle,' he growled, exasperated.

Suddenly he had a thought and dialled another number, waiting impatiently for an answer.

'Hello, Tristan.'

'Ariel, hey: have you seen Belle? She's not at the library and she doesn't seem to be home, and I need to see her.'

She was silent for a moment, registering his agitation. She could tell he was upset, but so was Belle, and it was her fault they were in this mess: if she hadn't pushed them together, this wouldn't have happened.

'Ariel?' he asked when she didn't answer him. 'You've seen her, haven't you?' he asked, guessing that she had. 'Please, I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her: if you could just tell me where to find her…'

Ariel sighed. She was debating how to deal with this in a way that would be right for both Tristan and Belle, but she came to the conclusion that there was no way she could help them both, and Belle was her best friend.

'I'm afraid I can't do that, Tristan,' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry: I know that's not what you want to hear, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait for her to come to you.'

'But what if she doesn't?

Ariel sighed again. 'I don't know,' she said, but she knew that that would be a mistake on Belle's part, because Tristan obviously cared for her.

'So you can't tell me anything?' She'd given him advice about Belle before: he didn't know why she wouldn't now.

'I'm afraid I can't: I'm sorry.'

'Tell me where she is, Ariel, please!'

'I'd like to: I would, but Belle is my best friend, Tristan, and she doesn't want to see you right now. I'm sorry, but I won't tell you where she is.'

Ariel hung up, feeling terrible, but her loyalty had to be to Belle.

'Ariel?' Gold called: 'Ariel! Damn it!'

He sat down on the step and buried his head in his hands. After a while, he got to his feet and wandered towards home, picking up a bottle of Scotch on the way.

0

The Scotch bottle was empty and he didn't remember emptying it. His head hurt, but it was less painful than the way his heart hurt, so he welcomed it.

He sat up and waited for the world to stop spinning before he looked at the clock: two in the morning. He didn't know where the day had gone, but he didn't much care either. All he wanted right at this moment was to drown his sorrows until he forgot he had them, and for that, he was going to need more Scotch.

0

Ariel saw over the next several days that the life and energy she'd seen in her friend over the past number of months was gone: she was like a shell. She obviously had very deep feelings for Tristan, but she was too afraid to act on them. Ariel hated seeing her like this, and she knew she had to do something to help, but she had no idea what to do.

0

Jefferson and Victor had noticed Tristan's depression. Since Belle had walked out two weeks ago, he hadn't been interested in much of anything. He went through the motions at gigs, didn't care about the direction they were going, and had no interest in anything to do with the band. It was even a struggle to get him out of bed, and he was going through far too much Scotch.

'What are we gonna do?' Jefferson asked.

'Your guess is as good as mine, mate,' Victor said.

'The band's gonna crash and burn without him,' Jeff pointed out.

'You really think he'd let that happen?' Victor asked, alarmed.

'Right now, I don't see him giving much of a shit even about himself, and if he doesn't give a shit about himself, he's not gonna give one about us.'

'Fuck,' Victor said. 'We've got a huge gig this weekend: he can't fucking bail on us now!'

Jefferson looked at his friend. He was in agreement: trouble was, he didn't know how to get Tristan back.

0

Gold sat with his guitar and a pad and pencil beside him. The tune was the same one that had come to him weeks ago, and he'd been filling in snatches of lyrics ever since. He'd been playing it over and over as some sort of therapy.

God, he missed Belle. It wasn't even the kissing and holding her that he missed: he missed that too, but he'd had it for barely a minute, so it wasn't so much that that he missed. He missed seeing her face, hearing her voice, her smile, her touch. Everything had felt so natural: nothing forced or rushed, and then he'd fucking gone and fucking blown it! Fucking hell!

_No: calm down_, he told himself. It wouldn't help getting upset, but he _was_ upset: all the time, now. He was just…sad. He missed her and he wanted her, and nothing could make it better but to have her back.

'Come back to me.' That was it: the line he'd been searching for, and he scribbled some more on the pad.

0

The boys were rehearsing for the gig on Saturday and Gold had gone out for a smoke, leaving his friends alone for a few minutes.

'Did you see this?' Jefferson handed Victor a piece of sheet music that he'd pulled from Tristan's bag.

'This is what he's been playing for the last couple of weeks.'

Jeff nodded. 'Yeah. It's about Belle.'

Victor nodded. 'It's good.'

'Yeah. Listen, I've got an idea…'

0

'I'll do my best, Jeff.'

'Thanks, Ariel.'

She hung up and smiled to herself. Jefferson and Victor had an idea to bring Tristan and Belle back together: all Ariel had to do was get Belle to their gig on Saturday, two days from now. It was a good plan, but it wasn't going to be easy to get Belle there. Still, she had to try.

'Belle?'

'Hmm?' Belle looked up from the book she'd been trying to read as Ariel came into the living room.

'I just got off the phone with Jefferson.'

'Oh.'

'He's invited us to the gig on Saturday night: I said I'd see if I could convince you to come.'

'Why would you say that to him? Surely Tristan told he and Victor what I did: why would they want me there?'

'I'm sure it's because they consider you a friend,' Ariel told her. 'Sweetie, are you going to go your whole life never listening to their music and avoiding anything to do with them?'

'Of course not, but–'

'So why not go to the gig?'

'I can't, Ariel,' Belle pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. 'I'm not ready. Please, you don't know how much this hurts. To see him on that stage and know that I could have been with him if I hadn't been so scared…I can't bear the thought that he'll move on and find somebody else.'

She started to cry and Ariel went and sat beside her.

'That's what you're really afraid of, isn't it: that he'd leave you eventually?'

Yes, that was at the heart of it, and, now that Ariel had guessed, it was pointless to deny it. Belle nodded.

'Well, why wouldn't he? I'm just–'

'You're kind, and smart, and beautiful, so I don't want to hear you putting yourself down. That bastard Greg really did a number on your confidence, I know, but he's gone now, Belle: you're free of him, and you can be who you want to be and be with who you want to be with. Don't let the ghost of Greg keep you from being happy, because you know you'll regret it.'

Belle looked at her friend. 'It's hard. I know who I want to be, but every time I try, I hear that frightened voice in my head, the voice of Greg's wife, and I just panic. I know Tristan's not Greg, but my fear won't listen to reason.' She released a deep sigh. It felt good to open up, to share her fears: it felt better than keeping them to herself.

Ariel smiled, knowing how much it took for Belle to open up like this. 'I know it's hard, and if you really don't want to go on Saturday, I can't make you, but I want you to think about it, because I think it would be good for you.'

'Alright,' Belle said, after a long moment: 'I will think about it,' she promised.

0

'You what? ' Gold asked in surprise. 'No,' he stated emphatically, and shook his head and moved away.

Jefferson and Victor followed him.

'You've been playing that song over and over for weeks, Tristan: it might be cathartic if you played it to an audience.'

'Yeah,' Victor agreed: 'might help you let go of some of the pain.'

'Maybe I don't wanna let it go,' Gold said quietly.

'Well, forgive me, Tristan, but you're being a selfish ass right now,' Jeff said.

'That's right,' Victor agreed.

Gold looked up at them, hurt. 'I didn't ask for this.'

'We know,' Victor conceded: 'we know you didn't ask to have your heart broken, but, Tristan, we need you. Yeah, we're a band and we each bring something to the table, but the fact remains that _you_ are Desperate Souls. We need you, mate: we can't go back to where we were before. Please, Trist: don't leave us hanging.'

Gold blinked and something in him jolted, as if coming back to life. Victor was right: he'd been a selfish bastard, wallowing in his own pain and sleepwalking through his days. The band had been the most important part of his life before he met Belle, and, much as they drove him crazy sometimes, he loved the boys. They deserved better from him. They always gave their all and, lately, he hadn't been giving his.

'I'm sorry,' he said now, sighing. 'You deserve better: I'm sorry I've been such a bastard.'

'We forgive you,' Jefferson said, smiling.

'Of course we do,' Victor chimed in. 'So, will you sing that song?'

'You really think it will help?'

Jefferson smiled. 'We really do.'

0

'I really hope this works, mate,' Victor said quietly as he and Jefferson left Tristan to do a little more work on the song before they rehearsed it and they made their suggestions on the drum and keyboard arrangement. 'I hope Ariel can convince Belle to come.'

'Don't worry,' Jefferson said confidently. 'I've got a backup plan if this one doesn't fly.' And he pulled a digital recorder from his pocket. 'Belle's gonna hear that song no matter what.'

Victor grinned. 'You are a genius.'

'I know,' Jeff returned with a cocky grin.

0

Ariel smiled at Belle as they walked towards the concert venue. Belle smiled weakly back. She was pale and nervous, but at least she had come.

Ariel wasn't sure what had made her decide to come tonight, but she was here. She didn't want to question her in case Belle got scared and ran away again. It was enough that Belle was here. Victor and Jeff's plan would surely work now.

Belle followed Ariel into the venue, her stomach uneasy with the mix of fear and sadness that had been sitting there for days. She didn't know how she'd found the courage to come here, but something had forced her away from that cottage yesterday and back to her home, and now here. Something in her needed to see him again, even if part of her was telling her this would be the last time: that she was here to say goodbye.

She went with Ariel and they sat down. From their vantage point, they could see that the arena was packed out. There must be twenty thousand people here. Belle was pleased for him: she'd known that first night that Desperate Souls would be stars, and she was happy for them. When all of this was long past, she would look back and remember this time with fondness, and maybe just a little pain, though the pain was her own fault, she knew.

'Here they come,' Ariel said, and Belle watched as the boys came onstage to huge cheers. They organised themselves, Jeff going to the drums, Victor to the keyboards, and Tristan taking up his guitar and his place at the mic. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out into the crowd.

He looked as good as he ever did in those tight leather pants and the tight v-neck t-shirt. He was every inch the rock star, and, of course there would, if not tonight then soon, be someone waiting in the wings who would appreciate him as she hadn't. Oh, but she'd missed him, and she had to catch her breath at how strong the yearning to touch and kiss him again was. _You blew it_, she had to remind herself: _you lost your chance_. Yes: she was only here to say goodbye.

Tristan greeted the crowd, thanked them for coming out, and then they launched into the show with "Lost Boy", their first single and their first hit. They followed that up with "Nasty Habits", then "Broken", "All Magic Comes With a Price", and "Peter Pan".

Belle's eyes were glued to Tristan as he sang, played his guitar, and prowled around the stage like he owned it. Well, he did. Belle had never seen anything so mesmerising in her life, and she knew that no man would ever captivate her like this again. He was just so incredibly talented, so amazingly sexy, and the most beautiful, most wonderful soul she had ever met in her life. And he could have been hers.

They played a few more songs and the ache in Belle's heart grew more painful. It wasn't just seeing what she could no longer have: it was also hearing the way he sang. There was more desperation, more yearning, than she'd ever heard in his voice before. The crowd was enjoying it, and it certainly made for an electrically charged atmosphere, but it hurt Belle to hear him like that. She couldn't listen to this any longer.

'Ariel, I have to go,' she said, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Ariel caught her breath at the look on her face. 'Oh, sweetie…'

'I'm sorry, but I can't listen to him any more: I can't bear this.'

Ariel nodded. 'Ok, Belle: ok.' Victor and Jefferson's plan didn't matter in the face of Belle's distress. 'Want me to come with you?'

'Thank you, but I need to be by myself for a bit.'

Ariel nodded again. 'Ok: I'll call you tomorrow?'

Belle nodded and hugged her friend, and then she rose from her seat and turned to leave. As she was walking away, Tristan addressed the crowd and a hush fell.

'This is a new one. It's, uh, it's about someone special to me: this is for Belle.'

Belle stopped in her tracks as he began to play a familiar melody.

'It's called "Beauty".'

She recognised the tune as the one she'd heard him play that day on the roof above his apartment. It was slower than the other songs, more a longing, yearning sound than frantic, harsh desperation.

The crowd cheered and then quieted as Tristan sang.

'Beauty walks in high heel shoes,  
>Stares at me with baby blues,<br>Reads me like one of her books.  
>Beauty talks so soft and sweet,<br>She don't know what she does to me,  
>Her musical voice got me hooked.<p>

And she's out of my league,  
>But I will wait patiently,<br>Hoping and praying that she'll come back to me.'

Belle was holding her breath. She was standing stock still in the aisle, listening to him sing a song he'd written about her. Tristan had written a song about her…and it was beautiful…

The tempo kicked up a notch for the second verse.

'Oh, Beauty's smiles can light the night,  
>Fill me up with her sunlight,<br>She chases the darkness away.  
>And Beauty's touch is all I need,<br>She lights a fire inside of me,  
>For her hands on me I will pray.<p>

Oh, but she's out of my league,  
>Still, she's all that I see, all that I need,<br>Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.'

As he was singing the second verse, Belle turned and went to the railing, as close as she could get to Tristan for the moment.

Ariel looked over at her and smiled. Belle was clearly mesmerised by the song, and now Ariel knew that everything would be ok.

Belle watched him play the instrumental part. He played the notes with such care and tenderness, the way she'd seen him play the same tune before. Had he been thinking of her then? Had he been thinking of her like this: with such longing and wanting, the same way she'd been thinking of him?

'Oh, Tristan,' she breathed: 'I do want you.' And she watched and listened as he sang the rest of the song.

'Beauty has a fragile heart,  
>Been hurt before, I know it's hard,<br>But deep down inside she's so strong.  
>Oh, Beauty doesn't have to hide,<br>I see the soul that shines so bright,  
>And I know now just where I belong.<p>

Still, she's out of my league,  
>Far too good for me,<br>But baby, please come back to me.

Oh, she's out of my league,  
>But all that I need, all that I see,<br>Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.  
>Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.'<p>

He finished the song on a soft, slow, gentle note, and then the crowd went wild.

Belle saw Tristan take a breath and close his eyes. It was painful to sing that, she realised, painful to think about her. She'd broken his heart, and yet, according to the song, he wanted her back.

Would he forgive her if she went to him and said she was sorry? Could they still be together, even after she'd caused him so much pain?

She'd come to say goodbye, but she realised now that that was her taking the coward's way out, and she didn't want to do that again. It had taken her years to leave Greg because she was afraid, but if she let her fear get the better of her again, she would certainly lose the best thing that had ever happened to her. She couldn't let that happen: she had to go to him, apologise for hurting him, and tell him that she'd been afraid, but she wasn't now, and she very much wanted to be with him if he wanted to be with her. She could do this: she had to, because the alternative was unthinkable. She didn't want to lose him again.

Victor had gone up to Tristan and put a hand on his shoulder. He said something and Tristan nodded, taking a breath. Victor squeezed his shoulder and went back to the keyboards, exchanging a look with Jefferson as he went. The other man nodded.

They played one more song to finish out the gig and thanked the crowd. Then people began making their way towards the exits, buzzing after the intense show. Belle stayed exactly where she was, and then Ariel came up beside her.

'I need to talk to him,' Belle said softly.

Ariel smiled. 'I know the head of security,' she said.

Belle looked at her. Then she hugged her. 'Thank you: you're such a wonderful friend, Ariel. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

Ariel smiled. 'I'm just so happy to see you getting on with your life after Greg,' she said. 'I'm so happy to see you spread your wings and be the woman I've seen glimpses of: the woman you know you really are. Tristan's right, you know: you're so strong deep down. Don't forget that, ok?'

Belle smiled tearfully. 'I won't: I never will again.' And she let out a breath, truly and completely letting go of her inhibitions. She didn't have to hide any more: she didn't have to pretend, didn't have to tamp down her energy and passion and fit herself into a role that was far too limited for her. She remembered the passionate, energetic girl she'd once been, and she welcomed that old self back with open arms.

'Thank you, Ariel,' she breathed, hugging her friend tight. Ariel had always been there to support her: she was a wonderful rock and confidante, and she owed so much of this newly remembered assertiveness to her, and so much to Tristan too.

She smiled. She'd finally found the courage to be fully herself, something she had not truly been in over twenty years.

'Want me to talk to Leroy?' Ariel asked.

Belle smiled. 'Do you think you could introduce me and I could take it from there?'

Ariel grinned. 'Of course!'

**Saving the reunion for next chapter: sorry about that, but I can promise that it will be epic!**


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter eight, folks: aka, the reunion chapter! I know some of you have been looking forward to this and I really, really hope it doesn't disappoint. Thanks so much for reading and for all the lovely feedback so far :)

**Tempted**

_Chapter Eight_

The boys had come back to the stage to sort out their instruments when Victor happened to turn and see Belle. He smiled at her.

'Hey, Trist, you've got a visitor.' He nodded his head and Gold turned and gasped when he saw her standing by the stage.

Rather than use the steps, he put a hand down and quickly vaulted off the stage, making Belle gasp, and then she held her breath as he strode up to her, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet.

'You're here,' he sighed out, surprised.

'Yes,' she whispered, unable to say more right now, because her heart was pounding and she could barely breathe. She just held onto him as he set her back on her feet, burying her fingers in his hair, closing her eyes as he held her.

After a long moment, he moved one of his hands up to touch her face and she pulled back a little, staring at him.

'Tristan, that song: I…' No more words would come out and she felt her lips trembling with her emotion.

'Ah, you heard that,' he said, smiling as he stroked her cheek.

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

'Guess I should thank those two idiots for convincing me to sing it, then.' And he looked back over his shoulder at Jeff and Victor.

'You planned this, didn't you?' he asked them.

'It was Jeff's idea,' Victor said.

'Guilty,' Jeff admitted, grinning.

'I'll deal with you two later,' Gold said, and looked down at Belle. He tilted his head towards the backstage area and she nodded. He took her hand and she followed him, her heart in her mouth.

'Did you like it?' he asked, once they were alone.

'It was beautiful,' she breathed. 'Oh, Tristan.' She reached up, pressing her lips to his uncertainly, still quite unsure, despite what he'd sang, that he would welcome her after what happened last time she kissed him.

He growled and pulled her closer at once, and she shivered in relief and delight.

'I'm sorry,' she breathed, as he gave her time between heady kisses: 'I'm so sorry.'

''s ok,' he told her: 'I get it.'

'You're _wonderful_,' she sighed out, 'and I want you too. I'm sorry I almost ruined everything.'

He shook his head. 'I told you to go: I shouldn't have done that. Ariel told me I needed to take it slow and I rushed it. I'm sorry too.'

'I sent you mixed signals,' she said: 'that was wrong of me. I was afraid of getting hurt again, but I know you wouldn't do that to me. You've never said or done anything you didn't mean and I've felt so safe with you, I panicked that night: I won't do that again. I want to be with you, very much, Tristan.'

'We're on the same page, then,' he said, smiling.

Belle bit her lip as he leaned in.

'You want me?' he asked, his voice low and close to her ear.

'Yes,' she whispered, shivering as he kissed her neck.

'Then why don't we get out of here? Your place?'

She nodded. Something about bringing a man home with her after so long alone was so very delicious.

'My place,' she agreed. And then she remembered that she had no precautions for this eventuality. 'We're, uh, going to have to stop at a drugstore first, though: I'm not on birth control and it's a long time since I've been with a man.'

He saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes and knew what put it there: she was worried she wouldn't be good at it, but he had no such fear about her.

He tipped her chin up with his hand and kissed her sweetly, and then smiled.

'Let's go,' he whispered. 'We can go out this way.'

He led her on a circuitous route through the arena, explaining that he wanted to get out without being spotted by any remaining fans. Normally, he loved interacting with them, but tonight he just wanted to be alone with Belle.

They exited onto a dirty alleyway, litter strewn all over the place. It was filthy, which was probably why no intrepid fans had thought to come this way.

Gold looked at the refined woman beside him.

'Sorry about this,' he apologised.

Belle shook her head and smiled, reaching up to kiss him.

'I don't care about anything other than the fact that I'm with you.'

He smiled at the light in her eyes.

They left the alley and walked until they came to a drugstore and Belle led him in in search of condoms.

She stood, looking over the selection, bewildered at the choice, her cheeks heating because Tristan was standing right behind her, his hands on her waist, his lips on her neck. If someone had told her six months ago that she'd be in this position, buying condoms to use with a younger lover, she'd never have believed them. Now, however, she was here, and it was wonderful.

'Will these do?' she asked, picking up a box and showing them to him.

'Perfect,' he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

She shivered. 'Ok, let me just pay for them and we can go.'

She took the box up to the register and the cashier, a woman of about her own age, smiled at her.

'Find everything you needed?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'He's very good looking,' the cashier said, tilting her head towards Tristan.

Belle blushed and smiled. 'Yes.'

'Good for you.'

Belle's smile widened. 'Thank you.'

Two minutes later, the condoms safely tucked into her purse, Belle and Tristan left the drugstore and hailed a cab. Then they were speeding towards Belle's place.

She let them in and he helped her off with her coat. She hung it up and turned back to face him, and then all etiquette went out the window.

He reached out and grabbed her, and she wrapped her arms around him, moaning as they kissed. He pushed her back against the wall and kissed down her neck, pushing the fabric of her dress aside so he could taste more of her skin.

Belle clutched him close, giving in to the urge to lift her leg and wrap herself around him. He liked that: she felt it in the humming sound he made and the way he slid his hand down to hold her leg in place against his hip.

With her leg wrapped around him the way it was, he could feel her heat. He wanted her out of those clothes and underneath him, screaming his name, but he was going to work up to that, because she'd said it had been a while for her, and he had no intention of rushing this. She deserved to be treated like the goddess she was: she deserved to be worshipped. He was going to discover all the things she liked and do them over and over until she was floating in bliss.

He pulled back to look at her, smiling at her flushed cheeks and lust-clouded eyes.

'Do you have any idea,' he asked in a low voice, 'how much you turn me on?'

She looked at him, almost surprised.

'I, um…'

He found the mixture of unconscious sexiness and shyness unbelievably captivating.

'God,' he moaned, 'you don't know what you're doing to me, Belle.'

She stared at him. 'I could say the same about you.' She bit her lip, her cheeks flaming. She was suddenly so _ready_ for him, her body aching, trembling with want. 'I've been attracted to you since the first time I saw you on stage, and I've been _thinking_ about you, and _wanting_ you, and…'

He kissed her deeply, delighting in her shivering moan.

'I've been thinking about you too,' he told her, the hand holding her leg in place sliding slowly higher: 'thinking about kissing you, touching you, making love to you, hearing your cries of pleasure.'

She caught her breath. 'Tristan, I-I want to bring you pleasure too. I hope I can: I just…it's been a long time and…' She closed her eyes, horrified to feel tears forming. This was _so_ not the right time to have a breakdown.

Gold leaned in and kissed her neck.

She sighed and slid her hand into his hair. She felt herself relax again as his lips and tongue moved over her neck.

'We'll work it out, Belle,' he whispered: 'we'll figure it out together.'

She nodded.

He kissed her. 'So, shall we take this upstairs?'

She nodded and led him up the stairs and down the hall. Belle's heart was racing as she led him into her bedroom. She hadn't shared a bed with a man in years: she and Greg eventually ended up sleeping in separate beds and then, when she bought this house, after she left him, she'd been entirely alone. To have a man who wanted her here now was like a dream.

She didn't quite know what to do. She stood still as he closed the door and watched as he came to her.

He took her hand and kissed it, his eyes on hers the whole time.

Belle smiled. She couldn't believe how special he made her feel. It felt as though she was the only woman in the world, the way he looked at her. Greg had never looked at her like that, and so, when Tristan leaned in again, she forgot her uncertainty and just kissed him.

Slow, lazy kisses combined with him running his hands all over her, squeezing and caressing, and she was becoming overwhelmed by her arousal.

It kicked up several notches when he walked around behind her and unzipped her dress slowly, his fingertips brushing her spine, making her shiver.

'Can you shimmy out of this for me, babe?' he asked, and she did, of course, the dress pooling on the floor around her feet. Now she stood dressed only in her stockings, shoes, and underwear.

He moved back around to stand before her, his eyes raking over her body, up her legs, over her stomach, up to her breasts and lingering there for a long moment. She tried to breathe as she watched him stare at her breasts and then his eyes flicked up to her face, the pupils dilated so his eyes looked almost black.

He smiled. 'You are so beautiful,' he whispered, and she knew he meant it.

'You too,' she whispered.

He smiled and kissed her; then took her hands and brought them to the hem of his t-shirt. He gently curled her fingers around the fabric and encouraged her to pull it up. She quickly took the hint and eased the garment up his torso and chest. He raised his arms to help, and she pulled the article of clothing off.

She looked at him then. The t-shirt had been a bit damp with the sweat from the gig, and his skin glistened a bit with it. He was lean and muscular. There was no hair on his chest, which she liked: Greg had been very hairy. Greg had also been much bigger than Tristan, but she preferred Tristan's compact wiriness: he didn't overpower her.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, chest, and torso, and his hands on her hips pulled her closer.

She had soft, gentle hands, and they lit a fire everywhere they touched. He picked up one of her hands and placed it over his racing heart.

'Feel,' he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her neck: 'feel what you do to me.'

Belle tried to breathe. 'You too,' she said, taking one of his hands and placing it over her own heart, catching her breath as his large hand covered her breast.

He smiled as he felt her heart rate speed up. Looking at her, he slid his hand into the cup of her bra and caressed her breast.

She made a little sound in the back of her throat and breathed heavily. He smiled and, moving his hands, he unclasped her bra and tossed it away. Then he spread his hand over her breast and squeezed, pleased by her gasp.

He leaned in and kissed her skin, slipping his tongue out and licking slowly over the swell of her breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple.

'Oh, my God,' Belle breathed, shaking. It felt so good she thought she might come from the pleasure of that alone.

Gold looked up and saw tears trickling down her cheeks. He paused, alarmed for a moment, but then she smiled.

'Don't stop,' she whispered.

He kept going, switching from one breast to the other, and raised his hand to caress the other in time with his licking and sucking.

He realised that he was the first man to ever suckle on her breasts. That knowledge gave him rather a heady rush and he sucked her left breast deeper into his mouth as he plucked at her other nipple with his fingers, humming as she cried out.

He released her breast with a sucking pop that made her shudder and looked into her eyes, smiling.

'Did he never do that?' he asked.

She shook her head. 'Never.'

He couldn't imagine how awful it had been for her: for such a vibrant, beautiful, sexy woman to be left languishing, with no affection, no love, no passion.

He pulled her a little closer, one hand sliding down over her arse and the other on her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw.

'I don't understand how a man could be married to you and not want to be making love to you every moment of every day,' he murmured. 'That's what I want,' he told her, leaning in to kiss along her jaw: 'that's what I've always wanted. You've no idea how much I've wanted you, lovely Belle.'

Belle realised with a leaping sense of joy that the intense, burning look she'd seen in his eyes the night they met was the first sign of his desire for her, and that she'd never been imagining that look: it had always been real.

'You wanted me from the beginning,' she breathed.

'Oh, yeah,' he agreed. 'I was captured from the moment I laid eyes on you. You really don't know how special you are, Belle. You're the perfect mixture of kindness, sweetness, grace, beauty, and intelligence: you're everything I've ever wanted.'

Tears trickled down her cheeks at his words and he lifted his hands to brush them away with his thumbs.

'Don't cry,' he whispered.

'I can't help it,' she sobbed, and then laughed at herself. 'Tristan, you make me feel so good: I've never felt this way, ever. You don't know what our time together has meant to me.'

He smiled. 'It's meant the world to me too, Belle.'

He kissed her shoulder, then down over her collarbone, then down between her breasts, and knelt before her, kissing her stomach, his hands caressing her all the while.

'Step out of your shoes for me?' he asked, and she did, kicking the expensive heels out of the way.

He started rolling down her stockings, kissing her thighs as he did so, hands still touching and stroking.

Belle took a shuddering breath, her hands flying to his shoulders and then moving into his hair as he kissed and sucked on her inner thigh, so close to where she was aching for him.

'I-I don't think I'll be able to stand if you keep that up,' she told him breathily, on fire from the touch of his mouth and hands.

He drew back a little and looked up at her, and smiled.

'Then let's lie down,' he suggested, and stood.

Belle went and sat on the edge of the bed. Gold looked her over, smiling. Then, before joining her, he reached down and undid his boots, toeing out of them and his socks, leaving him clad only in his tight leather pants and underpants.

Belle watched him, biting her lip. How many times had she fantasised about helping him out of those leather pants? And now she could.

'May I help you out of those?' she asked, her voice husky.

He smiled. 'I was hoping you would.' And he came to her and stood before her.

Belle swallowed hard as she set about undoing the fastenings on the tight pants. She heard him suck in a breath and glanced up to see that his jaw was clenched. He caught her look and smiled.

'Seeing you do that, dressed – or, rather, _un_dressed – like that, makes it difficult to control myself,' he admitted.

Belle smiled and blushed, and finished undoing his fly; then tried pulling the pants down, but found that the combination of tight leather and sweat made it difficult to undress him. Plus, she was distracted by the obvious bulge in his briefs.

'How do you get these on in the first place?' she wondered, trying to focus.

'With a lot of difficulty,' he told her, and put his hands down to help get the tight pants down his legs. Finally, he managed it, and now stood only in tight black briefs.

Belle couldn't help but stare. The pants, though tight, had concealed a lot, but the briefs didn't, and she realised that he was actually bigger than Greg. Her ex-husband had been a tall man, but apparently height wasn't everything when it came to…_size_.

She heard Tristan laugh and looked up, blushing.

'Sorry.'

He shook his head. 'Don't be. You've seen me staring at you: only fair that you get to do it too.'

She smiled and moved backwards on the bed, and Gold didn't hesitate to follow her, crawling above her, staring at her parted lips and heaving chest.

'May I touch you?' he asked.

'Yes,' she breathed, and he smiled.

'I dreamed of seeing you like this,' he murmured, sweeping his hand down her side and over her belly. 'You're a goddess, Belle.'

She smiled and then arched her back and gripped his shoulders, her lips parting on a gasp, as he hooked a finger beneath the lace of her panties and traced lightly over the edge of her folds.

'I imagined you doing this to me,' she confessed, trying to breathe.

He smiled. 'Did you, now?'

'Mm.'

'What else did you imagine me doing?'

'Licking me,' she said, staring at him: 'making me come with your mouth. I imagined everything with you.'

He smiled and kissed her. 'Then _everything_ is precisely what you shall have,' he promised, kissing her again. 'And we'll start with this.' And he hooked his finger around the fabric of her panties again, dragging the tip along her folds slowly and deliberately, smiling at her moan.

'Oh, Tristan,' she sighed out, squirming.

Moving his hands, he pulled her knickers down, smiling as she lifted up to help.

He raised the scrap of fabric and inhaled the scent of her arousal, smiling at the strangled cry she let out.

'You smell divine,' he told her, 'and I bet you taste even better, but first…' And he slid his hand between her thighs as she parted them and whispered her acquiescence.

Belle felt him touch her, running his fingers through her curls, teasing her with a fingertip. He spread the wetness that leaked from her over her folds, and then he slid a finger inside her.

She cried out, almost rising off the bed. He added another finger, stretching her, moving in and out.

'Mmm,' she moaned, moving against him.

'That's it,' he whispered: 'take all you need.' And now his thumb started drawing delicate circles around her clit.

'Oh!' Belle cried out. He pressed against the hidden bundle of nerves and she screamed. 'Tristan!'

He watched her face. He'd never seen anything so beautiful as Belle's face shining with pleasure he was giving her. He leaned down to kiss her, fingers still pumping and thumb still circling and pressing, and Belle tightened her grip on his arms again.

She could hardly believe the pleasure she was experiencing. It had been nice when she did this imagining her fingers were his, but knowing they were actually his fingers added a whole new dimension to her pleasure.

'So good,' she nearly sobbed, and moaned as he went faster.

He smiled. 'It gets better.' And he curled his fingers inside her, finding a spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.

She cried out and panted heavily, squirming, one hand squeezing his shoulder while the other clawed at the sheets.

'Oh, oh, oh!' she sang out, and shuddered violently when he curled his fingers again.

He watched her come undone, smiling. He kept his fingers moving inside her until he felt her walls stop fluttering, and then he brought his fingers up and sucked them clean of her juices.

He moaned, then, at the taste of her: bitter and sweet like lemon and sugar.

'Oh, God, I have to have more of that,' he breathed, and Belle watched in a daze as he moved down her body, and it was only when he kissed the top of her thigh that she realised what he was going to do, and she felt her arousal spike again.

'Oh, God,' she sighed out.

'Is it alright, Belle?' he asked, waiting for her say so.

She nodded, swallowing hard. 'Yes, yes: God, yes.'

He placed a soft kiss to her folds, humming at the scent of her arousal. Then he lifted her legs over his shoulders, curled one hand around her hip, and slid the other over her belly, and then, finally, he traced up the length of her slit with his tongue.

The sensation made Belle arch off the bed, but she didn't get too far because his hands on her hip and belly held her down. She tried to breathe as he licked her.

This was nothing like she'd experienced before. Greg had never done this, and she couldn't do it for herself, so it was new to her to have a man's tongue down there. She'd tried to imagine it, tried to imagine Tristan doing it, but she still wasn't prepared for the hypnotic sensation of his velvet tongue swiping up and down and side-to-side, or for the intrigue of the shapes the tip of his tongue drew on her.

She was still less prepared when his tongue slid up into her, licking her thoroughly, and she keened and quivered at the sensation. She raised her head to watch him, and she found that added to her arousal. She found herself moving to get his questing tongue closer, deeper.

He looked up and caught her eye, and then he moved, taking her clit between his lips and sucking.

'Mmm!' Belle cried out. 'Oh, Tristan, you're amazing. How do you know to do those things?' she wondered, not really expecting an answer. She did feel him smile, though, and she had to laugh at her question.

He kept suckling on her clit and moved one of his hands, slipping a finger inside her, pumping like before. Then he added another finger and soon had Belle thrashing above him, crying out.

He felt it the moment she was about to come and removed his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and lapping up her juices.

Belle lay panting as he continued to lick her, and she was surprised to feel her arousal mount again.

'Again, Belle,' she heard him say, and all it took now was him licking slowly up her slit and then sucking on her clit, swirling his tongue around it, to make her shudder into a third orgasm.

'Oh, my God!' she screamed, plunging her hand into his hair and tugging as he licked her. He growled and she felt it through her body and shivered. 'Mmm.'

Finally, he moved, kissing and licking his way back up her body. He paused to suck and lick her breasts, and she cradled his head against her, humming.

'I never had one orgasm with Greg,' she mused, 'and you've just given me three.' She was rather in awe of her body's response.

'Fucking bastard,' he muttered, and then came and kissed her lips. 'You've got a lot of lost orgasms to make up for, then: lucky I'm here to help.'

She smiled and kissed him. 'Thank you for that, Tristan: it was wonderful.'

'Well, you're welcome,' he told her. 'There's plenty more where that came from, if you'd like to keep going?'

She bit her lip and nodded. 'I want to feel you inside me.'

He kissed her. 'We're gonna need the condoms then.'

'They're in my bag, on the chair.'

He nodded and got up to get them. Belle sat up to watch and he opened the box, scattering a few of the foil-wrapped condoms on the bedside table within easy reach.

Belle reached up and slid her hand down his torso to the waistband of his briefs,

'May I?' she asked softly.

'Yeah: please.'

The sound of that 'please' made her remember that he was as affected by her as she was by him, and that made her feel powerful. She carefully curled her fingers around the elastic and pulled his briefs down.

They fell to the floor and Belle found herself staring at his erection. He was impressive. Her fingers itched to touch and her mouth watered. She had to swallow hard. She'd never done that: Greg would never let her do it to him, but she wanted to do it to Tristan. She knew she'd have to work up to that, though, so she raised her hand instead.

'Can I touch you?'

'God, yes.'

She smiled and slid her hand around his length. He twitched and groaned, and Belle stared at him, biting her lip.

He groaned. 'Jesus, don't stop,' he begged. 'Mmm,' he moaned, as she slid her hand over him and squeezed: 'so good, babe,' he told her, sliding his hand into her hair.

Belle smiled and kept going, fascinated by the feel of him in her hand. He felt like steel wrapped in velvet, both soft and hard. She heard him breathe deeply and then moan as she moved her thumb over the head to collect the moisture that trickled from it.

'God, Belle,' he whined, his hips thrusting of their own accord. 'Babe, do you think you're ready for me?' he asked, 'because I'm sure as hell ready for you.'

'Oh, yes,' Belle murmured.

Gold straightened up and slipped on one of the condoms. Then he leaned over her as she lay back on the bed.

'So fucking beautiful,' he breathed, awed.

'Tristan,' she whispered, reaching for him: 'please.'

He nearly lost it right there. She said those words and reached for him like that in every single fantasy he'd had, but this was better, because this was real.

'Want you so much,' he murmured, lining them up.

'Me too,' she agreed, stroking her hands over his shoulders.

He slid into her, slowly, carefully, and she caught her breath, trying to adjust to the sensation.

'Oh, my… mmm…' she sighed out. 'You feel incredible.'

'So do you,' he returned: 'so warm and welcoming, and so tight.' He panted, trying to get used to how she felt around him. 'God, you feel so good. Oh, Belle.' And he pulled out slowly and slid back in, smiling as she threw her head back, gasping.

'You-you're bigger than…mmm…'

She lost her train of thought because he slid out and back in hard.

'Yeah?' he asked, understanding what she was trying to say.

'Mm,' she murmured, nodding. 'Oh, God!' Every time his hips met hers, she lost her breath and her vision blurred.

He smiled. 'Not to blow my own horn, babe, but I'm not bad at this. By the time we're through here, you'll forget there was ever anyone but me, and you'll come over, and over, and over again, screaming my name.'

He said all this in a soft voice, while thrusting into her, alternating quick and slow thrusts, making Belle pant and shake.

Moaning at his words and actions, Belle looked down between their bodies, wanting to see the source of the pleasure he was giving her.

He noticed what she was looking at and lifted himself up a little so she could watch more easily. He heard her breathing get shallower and saw her breast rise and fall, and he smiled.

Seeing and feeling him sliding into her was entrancing, and she was amazed by what their bodies were doing.

Gold groaned.

'You feel like heaven: oh, Belle.'

She looked up into his eyes and got mesmerised by the look in them. A tear trickled down her cheek at the sight of his sincerity and desire.

'Th-this is like a dream,' she told him. 'I never-never knew it could be like this. Mmm!' She threw her head back and got lost in the pleasure that was building.

They were moving together: faster, harder, and it was all Gold could do to hold on.

'Belle,' he panted, and she looked at him. 'I'm so close. Come with me, babe: come on, my beautiful, perfect Belle.'

His movements and his words had Belle crying out and clinging tightly to him.

'Oh, my God! _Tristan_!'

She saw stars as she came and her body seemed to convulse over and over again, which made Gold groan and come hard, his hips jerking as her body milked him.

'Belle!' he cried, and then he kissed her as he came, thrusting hard into her.

He collapsed on top of her and quickly moved his shaking arms to prop himself up and cradle her at the same time.

Belle was completely stunned.

'_Four_: oh, my _God_!' she cried, breathing hard.

He smiled as he nuzzled her neck.

'Oh, we're only just beginning, babe,' he murmured, a promise in his voice.

Belle shivered in pleasure.

**And there you have it :) Two more chapters to go.**


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